


I'll be the spring to your smile

by slytherinwoozi



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Coffee Shops, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fame, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Slow Burn, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 18:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14754185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinwoozi/pseuds/slytherinwoozi
Summary: Jihoon Lee is a famous indie musician who meets Junhui Wen, a beauty YouTuber and Theater major, at one of his concerts. What could go wrong?





	1. I want it to be simple

**Author's Note:**

> The process of writing this fic was a rollercoaster, but a lovely one. I would like to thank the creators of the SVT Big Bang for giving me the opportunity to write this story and Tsanka, the most wonderful beta in the world, who was not only a proofreader but a friend and wise advisor throughout this period. This fic would not have been possible without you.  
> Dear reader, I hope you can enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for giving it a chance!

One million subscribers had felt like a dream. He still couldn’t quite believe it, even as he stood in front of a crowd that sang along to every word he uttered, even as he signed lyric book after lyric book, sitting opposite to people who told him words of pride and love. Jihoon, after all, wasn’t an idol. He was just a common boy with a regular life. One who was lucky enough to find support along the way.

Not believing it, though, didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying every second of it. Singing to the camera, sat in an empty room, could never compare to having hundreds of people watch him live. Being alone meant no one was seeing his mistakes, but it also meant feeling doubtful at times. There was no space for fear on the stage; in front of those people, all he could do was smile. For the first time, he felt like he was in the right place. Stage fright was real, and he came back home with sore feet and racing thoughts, but somehow it was all worth it. Nothing was better than being able to speak to those who had supported him on YouTube for almost five years and cheered him up through the hardest of times in real life.

After drinking a whole bottle of water and taking a few deep breaths, he was ready for doing meet and greets. The crowd was now gone from the stage area, standing in line before the table that had been provided for him. It was weird to have people manage things for him; he had gotten used to doing everything on his own. At first, Jihoon had felt powerless, but then the feeling had been replaced with relief. He wouldn’t be able to do half of this without a crew.

The meetings were brief. Each fan sat down, spoke to him for a little while, told him where to sign the EP and went back home. He had been surprised to find out how meaningful those few moments could be, though, not only for the people but for him too. Oftentimes, he found himself with tears in his eyes as he said his goodbyes. Many fans trusted him with their issues and talked about how his music had touched them. About how he had made them feel less alone somehow. As he signed the countless covers and lyric books, Jihoon made sure to write something for every person he met, complimenting their kindness and telling them to never lose hope. He hoped he could keep on reaching people’s hearts with his words, even if they were in small, hurried sentences.

As the crowd started to dissipate, he finally saw Seungcheol and Jeonghan. They stood side by side, waving at him with big smiles on their faces. In the first show he’d done, they had gotten in line to meet him, just like the fans. He had laughed for five minutes straight. Now, they refused to stand in line for so long, finding themselves a place to sit with fancy cups of coffee as they waited for him to finish his schedule. They didn’t need to do it, but it warmed Jihoon’s heart to know they did it anyway. Riding home with them was so much better than being on his own. Usually, he liked to be alone with his thoughts, but their company could always brighten up his days. When one of them would get in a bad mood, they’d stop everything and get coffee somewhere cheap enough for two broke students and one broke YouTuber to afford. It was like that since their high school days, his only constant in life. Having them at his shows was the most important thing in the world for him. More than his best friends, they were Jihoon’s family.

He spoke to nearly a hundred people before he appeared; a boy around his age, with bleached hair and a nervous smile on his lips. Jihoon’s eyes couldn’t leave his face from the moment he noticed him. There was just something about the boy, maybe the way he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, maybe his melodious laugh as he bumped into a girl and ended up talking to her as they came closer to the table. It made it hard for Jihoon to focus.

Soon enough, though, it was the boy’s turn to speak to him. He was tall, much taller than Jihoon, and had countless beauty marks.

“Hi,” a blush creeped up the boy’s cheeks as he spoke. “I’m Junhui.”

“Hello. Thanks for coming. I’m Jihoon, but I hope you know that,” he smiled weakly. His jokes somehow always got worse when he was flustered.

“I do!I’m actually a huge fan of yours. You know, watching your vlogs was what inspired me to make my own channel.”

“Oh, wow! I hope you upload more often than me, because I suck at vlogging. My life isn’t the most exciting thing,” Jihoon smiled at himself. “I’m curious about your channel now. What’s the name of it?”

The boy bit his lip before grinning again. His accent was soft like the sound of wind chimes and his smile was so bright it made Jihoon dizzy. Or maybe it was just the post-show adrenaline. Yeah, probably that.

“It’s just Jun. You can look up Junhui Wen, too. That will probably be easier to find.”

Jihoon was so mesmerized by the dark brown eyes before him he didn’t notice the manager’s signs to go faster until he touched his shoulder. He hated to be touched by strangers. An unpleasant shiver ran down his body as he picked up a marker from the table.

“So, Junhui, where should I sign?!”

“Oh. Anywhere you’d like, really.”

It was hard to stop staring at him and open the lyric book so he could sign it. He found his favorite picture, one where he had finally gotten over the awkwardness of a photoshoot and started to feel comfortable, and wrote on the left side of the page. “Thanks for sharing your channel with me. I’ll check it out! Keep smiling,” he wrote, followed by a smiley face and his signature. It was the worst thing he had ever written for a fan, but there it was. And it couldn’t be erased.

Jihoon tried not to show his nervousness as he handed Junhui his EP, but he was pretty sure it was noticeable.

“So, I guess this is goodbye,” Junhui said.

He nodded. For some reason, it felt sad to let him go, as if they hadn’t spoken for long enough. Jihoon wished he could ask him to stay, but even if he did, what would he say?

“Unfortunately,” he ended up saying.

“Well, I’ll definitely come to your next show,” the boy offered him a sweet smile. “This isn’t the last you’ve seen of me. Goodbye, Jihoon! It was great to meet you.”

“Goodbye,” Jihoon tried to smile back.

As Junhui stood up, Jihoon had to stop himself from saying something else. “I hope we meet before that,” maybe. Or, simply, “don’t go”. Another fan sat down and greeted him, forcing his eyes to stop following the beautiful boy as he made his way outside. He smiled and spoke and signed and repeated until his wrist hurt and his cheeks were sore.

The truth was that, as much as Jihoon enjoyed being around his fans, he also hadn’t been made for crowds. After a few hours surrounded by people, he couldn’t think of anything better than the comfort of his blankets. It was reasonable; he was an introvert, and this wasn’t part of his routine. It had been a very weird month. He had every right to just stare out of the window of the car as he rode home with his friends.

“Hey,” Jeonghan poked his shoulder lightly. “You’re broody.”

“I’m always broody.”

“You’re broodier, then.”

“That’s true,” Seungcheol chimed in. “What’s with the whole wistfully looking at the snow thing?”

“Oh, come on, let me enjoy the weather!”

“He got defensive,” Seungcheol stage-whispered to Jeonghan. “Did you meet a cute girl, Jihoonie?”

He rested his head on the car seat and took a deep breath.

“Yeah, Jihoon, did you meet someone?” Jeonghan joined Seungcheol.

His choice of pronoun had been more fortunate, but that didn’t mean Jihoon wanted to speak. He wanted to get home, take a nice hot shower and sleep. And maybe search for Junhui’s channel. He did, after all, say he’d check it out.

“I met lots of people. It’s kind of what I’ve been doing all day.”

“Yup. Definitely met someone,” Jeonghan laughed.

Jihoon sighed and closed his eyes heavily. He needed a good night of sleep.

“Whatever.”

The boys laughed and kept on teasing him, making up scenarios as they imagined who had caught Jihoon’s attention. They were both very wrong. He didn’t blame them, though; he had never dated, so they wouldn’t know his type.

After a few very long minutes, they stopped in front of the building where Jihoon lived. With the money from his YouTube career, he had been able to afford the security deposit for a nice apartment. It didn’t get him rid of the brick walls that seemed to be the thematic view of every apartment window in Seoul, but it was much better than the previous one. It was close to the university dorms where Jeonghan and Seungcheol lived, too, which made them able to pay him impromptu visits when he spent too long without socializing.

As he got out of the car, saying his goodbyes to his friends and stepping into the chilly air, the silence stunned him. Throughout the day, he had grown accustomed to noise all around him, but now it had been replaced by occasional howls of wind against the trees. He rode the elevator for what seemed like years before finally getting home.

Contrary to what he believed he would do, he simply threw himself on the couch, getting his phone out of the bag he carried. Before he even noticed, he had already typed Junhui’s name in the Youtube search box.

It wasn’t hard to find his channel. Contrary to the boy’s bright looks, the layout had muted colors and a minimalistic layout. He was surprised to see that the main subject was beauty, but it made a little sense. Junhui was beautiful, after all.

Jihoon clicked his most recent video, one where Junhui talked about products he regretted buying. He looked wonderful in a blue hoodie that contrasted with the warm tones of his skin. It took Jihoon a few seconds to stop staring and start paying attention to what the boy was saying.

The way Junhui talked was quite entertaining. The soft tone of his voice was easy to listen to, and Jihoon watched video after video of him reviewing products and showing his routine. He was a drama student and had quite a lot of friends who liked to make random cameos in his vlogs. It made Jihoon laugh when they teased Junhui, talking about how he always seemed to have his camera with him. Seungcheol had told him that before.

As the night progressed, Jihoon got more comfortable on the couch. He had gotten up at some point to get a blanket, snuggling up to it, and a chocolate bar, but got back to watching Junhui as fast as he could. It was enchanting to see the boy talk. He was confident and clever, almost cocky, but also sweet. For some reason, it felt like Jihoon had known him forever.

He had lost count of how many videos he’d watched by the point where he found it. A video titled _COMING OUT_ where Junhui stood proudly in front of a colorful flag. Suddenly, it felt like his stomach was filled with butterflies. His finger hovered nervously over the title, too scared to click it. It was an irrational fear; it wasn’t like anyone was watching him. It wasn’t like it was wrong to watch a coming out video. Still, he had to talk himself into finally tapping the screen.

“Hello, guys!” Junhui’s bright smile appeared on the screen. “Today we’re going to talk about something a bit more serious than normal. You see, there are a lot of you now, and I think it wouldn’t be fair to hide something so big about myself when you’re all so supportive.”

Jihoon’s stomach tightened.

“The thing is: I’m bisexual. Wow, what a surprise! Yeah, I just wanted to make that clear in case you were wondering. It took me a long time to be comfortable with myself, and now I’m happy to share it with you guys. It’s hard, and I do get some annoying comments, but you know what? The comments tell you more about the person who’s making them than about yourself. Beauty comes from within, and all that,” Junhui shrugged. “I love who I am. And I wouldn’t change a thing about myself. Except for, maybe, the color of my hair. Maybe I’ll dye it the colors of the bisexual flag. Stay tuned to see that.”

Jihoon paused the video. The beautiful smile on the boy’s face persisted. He suddenly couldn’t bear to look at it.

How could Junhui look like that, as if he didn’t have a worry in the world, as he let the world in on something so big? Did he really not care about the backlash? Coming out could change everything. His career, his reputation, his opportunities. Junhui was risking everything and, still, he didn’t even hesitate.

Jihoon wanted to hate it. He wanted to believe it was a stupid thing to do. Still, he couldn’t convince himself. He knew it wasn’t stupidity; it was bravery. Junhui had known about every risk, but he had done it. He had the courage Jihoon had always lacked.

Ever since he started to see his subscriber count grow exponentially every day, Jihoon had convinced himself it would be better to keep his mouth shut. Coming out could mean losing his career. It could mean losing his space in society like he once had in his own home. Still, he couldn’t help but imagine a world where he could fully be himself. Where he didn’t feel ashamed whenever anyone asked him about having a girlfriend and where he didn’t feel like an impostor every time he saw a comment by a girl talking about how attractive he was. He wished he could wear whatever he wanted to and flirt with boys when he wanted to.

If he couldn’t flirt with boys, at least he could try to befriend them. Junhui had been to his concert, after all. And he needed more of him: even after clicking video after video, watching him talk for hours about everything, he still longed for his easy grin and the calming cadence of his speech. With a sigh, Jihoon went back to the top of his channel, finding the most recent video and leaving a short comment. He found himself typing many different sentences and deleting all of them until something felt right, or at least less wrong.

Jihoon needed to sleep. A good restful night would solve most, if not all, of his problems. It would have been easy had he not seen Junhui’s face every time he closed his eyes. At three AM, he found himself going through Junhui’s twitter account, laughing quietly at his cleverness. He hit ‘follow’ before he could think twice and let his mind wander to whatever place it wanted to until, finally, exhaustion took over him.


	2. I want to say hello

Waking up was always a confusing moment for Junhui. He grunted at the buzzing sound of his phone, only vaguely conscious, before his mind convinced his body to move and turn the awful alarm off. Out of habit, he checked his notifications, only to see a startling number of them. What kind of scandal could he have been dragged into? He tapped the Twitter icon to investigate.

_Im getting real concerned about @wenjun did he survive_

_@wenjun wtf you’re so lucky????????_

That did not help at all. Why would he not survive the night? Why was he lucky? Had classes been cancelled for the day? He really wished the classes would be cancelled for the day. He scrolled further into the mess of notifications only to find more incoherent screaming.

_@wenjun @jihoonmusic FINALLY MY BABIES HAVE INTERACTED_

Yes, he had been to Jihoon’s show. He had behaved like a little boy in front of him because, well, who wouldn’t? Besides singing like an angel, he was also beautiful. Even more than in the pictures and videos. Just the memory of seeing him for the first time on the stage made a smile creep up Junhui’s lips before he could go back to reading tweets.

_Musician Jihoon Lee followed @wenjun on Twitter and subscribed to his YouTube channel earlier today. Congrats, Jun!_

The tweet, written by one of the update accounts dedicated to him that he didn’t quite understand, made him gasp audibly. That couldn’t be real. Junhui had mentioned the channel to Jihoon, and he had said he would check it, but it had been out of politeness. Right? He didn’t understand how anyone could spread pointless lies like that.

Except it wasn’t a lie. Upon clicking his follower count, he saw Jihoon’s username followed by the verified account symbol.

Junhui had to be dreaming. He rubbed his eyes and pinched his arm, hoping it would wake him up but all it did was hurt. Somehow, it was real. Jihoon was following him, and he felt the sudden urge to clean up his account and delete every fanboy tweet he had ever written. It was too late, however. He felt the sudden urge to delete himself off the internet and live as a hermit for the rest of his days.

Despite his desires, he had to actually get up and go to class. He sat up, still clutching his phone as if it would help him retrieve his tranquility, and brushed his teeth before getting in the shower. His morning ritual of listening to Jihoon while doing it felt awkward. Picking an outfit felt impossible. He had to sit down and take a few deep breaths and remind himself that he wasn’t dressing for a special occasion. It was only college.

After putting on some BB cream and combing his hair, he was ready to face the day. Or maybe not. Part of him still considered living on the top of a mountain as a shepherd. Maybe he could raise some goats. Goats wouldn’t judge him for tweeting about his love for Jihoon.

He left his dorm and decided not to listen to music on the way to class. It would only make things worse. He did leave his earbuds on, though, as a way to avoid talking to anyone. He couldn’t bear it that day.

Strangely enough, the corridor of his first period was empty. He couldn’t be that early. After taking a quick look at his phone, he found out it was quite the contrary. The screen showed he was thirty minutes late.

He let out a long sigh. There was no tolerance for tardiness in that class. All he could do was find a place to sit and browse through Twitter.

The tweets still hadn’t stopped coming. His phone had slowed down with the amount of notifications. His follower count was still going up. He didn’t get why Jihoon’s followers would be following him; all he had done was go to a concert, like any other fan. Surprisingly, though, his YouTube subscriber count was also going up, and there was an immense amount of new comments. He couldn’t complain about that.

Opening his newest video to take a look at the reactions, he was shocked to find the most popular comment. It was Jihoon’s. He had left some compliments – one of them involving his face, which made him have to put down the phone for a second – and a smiley face. Junhui felt like he was dreaming again. His favorite musician and celebrity crush had liked his video!

He couldn’t keep quiet. He had to message him. Going back to Twitter, he opened the DM tab and found Jihoon’s username.

Writing a message was harder than ever. After thinking of a million paragraphs he wished he could tell him, Junhui settled for something concise.

_hi_

It was too concise. Too meaningless. However, he couldn’t go back. It had been too long since he had pressed _send_ , and now he couldn’t say anything else because that would just look uncool.

_hi_

The two letters appeared on his screen almost immediately. Junhui froze.

_your videos are really cool :) I’d like some editing tips_

Oh no. He had used a smiley face again. And Junhui had forgotten to close the window, which meant Jihoon knew he was lurking. He had to answer soon.

_as if you needed them. yours are amazing_

That had been too dry. Maybe he should have added an emoji.

_not as good as the live experience tho_

_when’s your next show?!?_

Too fanboyish? Too fanboyish. Did Junhui care? Well, he probably should, but he had nothing to lose.

_uh I have no idea but_

_maybe you shouldn’t keep me waiting for those tips that_ _long_

_maybe we could grab some coffee? I mean if you wanted to_

Alright. Breathe in, breathe out, try not to cry. Jihoon, prettiest boy in the world, owner of a voice that sounded like hot cocoa tasted in snowy days, wanted to hang out with him. And sounded nervous about it, too.

_of course! when are you free?_

That was officially happening. Jihoon had seen his message and was typing. And then he stopped. And started again. And did it about three hundred moretimes. Junhui considered throwing his phone out of a window, but the hallway had none.

_today?_

He really, really needed that window. And a cold shower. And a cold face mask to make his skin look fresher.

_sure! :)_

_there’s this really nice coffee shop near my campus maybe we could go there??_

Junhui hated smiley faces. Now he either sounded passive aggressive or overly excited. Jihoon, though, didn’t seem to mind.

_cool. just send me the address. be there at 18?_

His stomach fluttered as he typed the address of the coffee shop. Jihoon was probably used to fancy places. Would he like the broke college student hangout? It did have good selfie lighting but maybe that was something only Junhui cared about. He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly nervous.

What would they even talk about? His undying love for Jihoon? How would he even dress? Should he go all out or try to look a little disheveled? His phone vibrated in his hand, waking him up from his Jihoon-related daydreams. It was time to go to class.

Attending class after class was torture. He knew his friends were too busy to text and he wasn’t about to lose his dignity anyway. Junhui Wen didn’t freak out over boys. He was the boy people freaked out over. He just had to channel that.

Despite his efforts, he found himself scribbling on his notebook instead of taking notes and dreaming up entire choreographies for random songs. He tried to listen to as much as he could of the endless lectures, but he knew he would need to study it all over again when he was less stressed out.

Between breaks, he did his best to find Minghao. He was nowhere to be found. Soon enough, he gave up on that too. He would have to face the challenges of choosing an outfit on his own.

His fans could never know what he was going through. Junhui, a beauty youtuber, on the verge of a breakdown because he didn’t know what to wear. His mind wandered to his tiny wardrobe, stuffed to the brim with all kinds of clothes, and he felt like crying. Puffed eyes were hard to conceal, though, so he powered through the day and ran back to his dorm building as soon as he could.

The silence of the empty room was comforting. He put on some music and tried to focus on the amazing pastries he’d be eating later, not the boy he was going to meet. It couldn’t be hard to pick a nice outfit.

Fifteen minutes later, Junhui was sitting on his bed, head in his hands, wearing only his underwear. He was about to give up and tell Jihoon he couldn’t go when he spotted a pair of black ripped jeans he could work with. Black was classic. Maybe he could wear a dark top, too, to contrast with his bleached hair. He didn’t let himself think too much, choosing a striped hoodie and some sneakers before sitting down again to do his make-up.

Thankfully, make-up was almost automatic for him, so it didn’t take too long. Soon enough, he was ready to go. Well, except for his mindset. That was still a work in progress.

On his way to the café, Junhui couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen when he got there. Maybe Jihoon would decide he wasn’t interesting enough. Maybe he would not even show up. There were too many terrifying possibilities. He wouldn’t know until he got there, though.

Of course, Jihoon was already there by the time he arrived. Junhui wasn’t even late. He had been prepared to be the first one there. All his plans of looking cool and collected while sipping on coffee had to be forgotten. He waved at Jihoon, not sure of what he should do next, and he could swear the boy had looked amused for a second before giving him a polite smile.

“Hello,” he said as he sat down, trying to keep his relaxed façade.

“Hey.”

“So… do you always do this with fans?”

Jihoon looked puzzled for a second before his face became apologetic.

“No! I mean, I… yeah, no, this is a first. I didn’t expect you to mention that.”

“I’m just joking,” Junhui laughed.

“Oh. Okay. It’s just… I’m not that kind of person. I mean, I’m not expecting you to shower me in compliments or anything. I’m here because I think you’re interesting.”

With each word he spoke, Jihoon became a darker shade of red. It was funny to see him like that. Junhui was used to him being eloquent and secure on camera.

“It’s alright. I think you’re interesting too.”

Seconds of silence hung between them and Junhui could feel his own skin burn, not sure what he should do. The whole situation felt surreal. Finally, he took a menu from the table and pretended to read it, even though he already knew what he would order. Jihoon did the same.

“Just so you know, the pastries here are amazing,” he said nonchalantly, trying to end the awkward silence.

Jihoon kept squinting at his own menu for a moment, fingers tracing the shiny paper absently, and then nodded.

“Okay. I think I know what I want. Could you, uh, order for us?” he bit his lip. “I’d like a soboro pastry and a cup of coffee.”

“Just plain coffee?”

“Yes. I got no sleep today. I need coffee more than anything.”

Junhui could relate. Still, coffee was unbearable for him without a good quantity of sugar and milk, and he could use some sugar rush at that moment. He couldn’t help but feel scared, as if Jihoon would get up and leave at any moment and only the sweetness of it would relieve his tension.

He left the table and stood awkwardly in line, sighing when it was his turn. It felt like it would never come. He ordered his usual choice and Jihoon’s own, getting a kind smile from the elderly lady who stood behind the counter, and got in yet another line so he could pay for it. Looking at his phone, he was surprised to find that it had only been a few minutes since he had gotten up.

When he returned to the table, Jihoon was still there. And things were still embarrassing.

“So, why didn’t you sleep?”

“Oh, the usual. I stayed up writing,” he shrugged, avoiding the subject. “And then I took a power nap and woke up feeling even more tired, so I gave up on sleeping.”

“That’s awful. I’m sorry for hitting you up so early.”

“No! That was… nice of you. I had been meaning to talk to you, anyway, so…”

They were interrupted by a waitress. She put their trays on the table quickly and wordlessly, not giving Junhui time to thank her. Jihoon didn’t hesitate to take a large gulp of his coffee, smiling as if he had just found absolute bliss afterwards.

“How can you look so happy after drinking that?!”

“It’s the only way to wake up properly.”

“A latte could work just as well,” Junhui said while sipping on his own. “And it wouldn’t taste disgusting.”

“What? You’re disgusting!”, Jihoon exclaimed, holding his cup protectively.

Feigning disappointment, Junhui shook his head, eliciting a tiny laugh from the other boy. He smiled at the sound.

“Wait!” he said suddenly, taking his phone out of his pocket. “I’m trying to do this thing. I’ll record a second of each day for the whole year, and then I’ll make a video using it. I haven’t recorded today yet.”

Jihoon watched him in bemusement as he opened his camera app and pointed the cellphone to the table where their food sat, mostly untouched.

“That’s actually a very good idea,” he said. “I might try it next year.”

Junhui hadn’t even noticed his own grin. Something in his heart fluttered with the words of approval.

By the time he was done with his own pastry, Jihoon was halfway through his. He ate quietly and graciously. Junhui wondered how someone could do that. He always ate like the end was near, which didn’t tend to look too attractive. Taking another sip of his latte, he tried not to look too smitten (and probably failed). At least Jihoon wasn’t looking.

Until he was.

Jihoon stared back at him for a whole second before realizing he should look away, and then it was too late. The surprise had made him jump a little, and he felt the simmering heat on his chest before he had the courage to look.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, getting another chuckle from Jihoon.

“That’s messy. Where do you live?”

He frowned at the question.

“I mean, I could go get another shirt with you. I don’t think the napkins will help you with that one.”

“Oh. Yes. That’d be good,” Junhui said before he could think about it.

When they got up, he understood the magnitude of the situation. He was taking Jihoon to his dorm. His messy, shared dorm. And he was pretty sure his signed EP was still under his pillow. He couldn’t turn back, though.

The way back wasn’t long. They entered campus quickly, and at least the walk there was pleasant, with beautiful trees and sleepy students reading thick books. Junhui kept his arms crossed so no one would notice the stain on his shirt but soon he realized no one was paying attention. The proof was that Jihoon Lee, famous all around the country, was right there and no one even looked at him twice.

“This is nice,” Jihoon said, looking up at the clear blue sky. “The view from my window is just a brick wall. I wish it was more like this.”

Junhui nodded in agreement. The campus was truly nice. He had been surprised when he’d first moved into his dorm; it was hard to get that sort of view in Seoul.

They didn’t speak much as they made their way to the dorm building. Junhui guided Jihoon across the corridor and into the elevator. He dreaded the wait, but it was better than taking the stairs.

“It’s quiet here,” Jihoon said, looking around as if everything he saw was new to him.

“Everyone’s either still in class or napping,” he explained, stepping into the small elevator and pressing the number three.

“That’s good. My neighbors never shut up.”

Junhui laughed at his bluntness as they reached the third floor. He led the way to his room, the very first one on the floor. He’d been lucky; he only had neighbors on one side of the walls.

“We’re home,” he announced, opening the door as if he were showing a hidden treasure. “You can sit on the bed if you want.”

“Oh, thank you,” Jihoon answered.

He immediately made his way to the wardrobe, searching for something that matched his outfit. He should have had a plan B. Settling for a plaid shirt, he closed the doors and turned to face Jihoon.

“Close your eyes,” he warned.

Jihoon didn’t. He looked straight ahead for a while, and Junhui watched him as he observed his roommate’s posters on the wall. His presence was light, barely there, but Junhui could still hear his own heartbeat. He wondered if the other boy heard it, too.

He took off his hoodie and threw it away, too distracted to place it in the hamper. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Jihoon’s eyes and looked back. Junhui was shirtless with a boy in his room and that itself wasn’t weird; it did happen a lot after parties. What was weird was how he suddenly felt insecure, as if those bright brown eyes could see right through him. He wet his lips, and Jihoon did the same, gulping audibly afterwards. All of a sudden, it was hard to find the right holes for the buttons on his shirt.

He sat down and tried to make himself comfortable. His bed felt foreign with Jihoon on it.

“I’m sorry for not speaking at the café,” Jihoon muttered, barely audible. “I’m not too good at social situations.”

“It’s fine. That place is always crowded. You’re good, tough. You kill it onstage.”

He grinned at the way Jihoon’s cheeks became just a shade pinker.

“That’s not exactly social.”

“It’s social enough.”

“Thanks, then.”

There was a small smile on his lips. Junhui caught himself holding his breath. The sight was something out of a movie, too beautiful for reality, and he felt like once he moved it would be gone.

“I’ve always been curious about how dorms looked like. I mean, my friends live on campus, too, but it’s… different. I’ve known them forever.”

“Why don’t you live on campus?”

“Oh. I don’t study.”

“Sorry. I hadn’t figured that. I should have.”

“Don’t worry,” Jihoon shrugged. “I don’t really talk about it.”

He had turned to face Junhui, and his eyes were now wandering through the posters and post-it notes on his wall. He tried to see it from an outsider’s point of view and decided it was a mess. Sometimes, not even he could make sense of the notes he wrote when he was half asleep and had breakthroughs. They were ideas for videos and choreographies and summaries of weird dreams he hadn’t wanted to forget.

“Wait, is that my face?!”

Junhui panicked. He followed Jihoon’s eyes only to find that, indeed, his face was on the wall. It was the worst moment of his life. Suddenly, Jihoon was laughing. Not a chuckle like the other times, but full-on laughter, which made his eyes tear up and his body shake. Junhui couldn’t help laughing along.

“That’s the most awkward thing that’s ever happened to me,” he confessed between giggles. “This is horrible. I feel like crying.”

“It’s flattering,” Jihoon laughed. “Gods, I hate that photo.”

“No! It’s good!”

“I don’t have your aptitude for modelling. I look like a deer caught in the headlights. Look at my hair!”

“It’s cute.”

Jihoon laughed again, having to lie back for support. His laugh was contagious, lighting up the whole room.

“Come on! You’re just embarrassing me more!”

“I’m the one who’s embarrassed! I have a picture of you on my wall!” he roared with laughter. “This is absurd.”

“It’s not. If it weren’t for it, we wouldn’t have met.”

The simplicity of how Jihoon said it was astounding. Junhui stopped laughing and looked at the window, trying to avoid his gaze. It wasn’t easy.

“Yeah.”

“Besides the whole thing with my face, your wall is very nice.”

“Thanks. It’s got a lot of nerdy stuff,” he bit his lip, “but I really like it, too. It’s my hidden side.”

“I wouldn’t have expected it. I mean, I knew you’re studying drama but I didn’t know you were into musicals. Is that what you want to do?”

Junhui nodded.

“Does that mean you’re a singer, too?”

“Maybe.”

Jihoon’s face lit up again as he clasped his fingers together.

“Can I hear you sing?”

“No way!”


	3. I want to know everything about you

When asked, Jihoon defined himself as a shy, introverted person. He didn’t like to interact with too many people, and even his livestreams made him feel drained afterwards. Shy and introverted people, though, didn’t end up in boys’ dormitories the first time they met them.

Well, actually, it had been the second time he had met Junhui. Which did not make it any better.

He had hardly even noticed what he had done until he left the building. Jihoon had met a boy and gone to his dorm room in what could be considered as the first date. Not that Junhui knew it was a date. Not that it was, in fact, a date. That part was wishful thinking.

The worst part was that he had liked it. Even though it had been awkward at first, he had liked going out with Junhui. He enjoyed how easygoing he was. Usually, Jihoon was quite good at avoiding anything related to romance, but he struggled to keep his mind off it for the whole night after meeting him. And that was a problem, because he didn’t date. He couldn’t date.

Dating meant a lot of things. Opening up. Living in secret. Dragging someone else into his mess. He couldn’t do that, because that would be just selfish. And he couldn’t come out, because that had the potential to ruin his career.

It didn’t have to be serious. People had flings all the time, and flings could easily be swept under the rug. Jihoon, however, was a serious person. He thought in black and white, yes or no, and maybes had never been able to satisfy him. If he were going to date a boy, he would want everything to be clear.

He knew it all boiled down his love for complicating things. He went to bed late again, and he woke up too early again, and he put on some make-up – with some weird teardrop-shaped thing that Junhui had recommended in one of his videos –, and he recorded a video. And then he hated himself for choosing such a sappy song. It would be a good surprise for his subscribers, though, as he had been so busy he hadn’t uploaded for the whole week. He decided against deleting the video from his camera. Editing it would be a nice way to kill time after the long week he had had.

Shortly after he finished recording, his phone buzzed. It was a surprise, as the only notifications he had turned on were for personal messages. Seungcheol and Jeonghan were supposed to be studying, so who could have chosen to bother him that early in the morning?

_had a great time yesterday! I hope we can meet again soon!_

Jihoon tried very hard not to grin. And then he grinned.

_me too._

_:)_

The truth was that he needed to sort himself out. To turn his phone off and have a nice, relaxing time on his own, with no cute boys sending him overly excited messages. He tried to forget about Junhui and have some breakfast, but there he was, ruining Jihoon’s every experience with that beautiful face and those exclamation marks. He needed help.

While he waited for his friends’ schooldays to end, he tried to have a normal day. He checked Twitter and did his best to ignore Junhui’s fans, who were still mentioning him, and then he decided to take a nap. It had been a productive day, after all.

An hour later, when he woke up, it felt like time would never pass. He focused on editing what he had recorded and tried not to think about how Junhui would react. It had been terribly embarrassing to see his picture on his wall, but it was kind of fun after he got over his initial horror. Having a cute boy’s attention could never be a bad thing. And he liked knowing that his voice had an effect on him.

After many excruciating hours in which he busied himself with taking a shower, having lunch and assuring his manager he was completely healthy and well-rested, Jeonghan finally got online. He had never felt so thankful for being able to see his face.

_Han. I have an emergency_

He waited for a whole minute before his message was seen.

_what kind of emergency_

_a gay emergency_ , he typed. It felt good to type those words, but his happiness didn’t last long. The guilt was too big. Beside his immediate family, Jeonghan was the only one who knew he liked men. Sometimes, his whole life felt like a play.

_okay I need more info see you in 10_

_have you told Cheol yet_

Jihoon sighed.

_you can bring him_

It wasn’t easy to keep such a big secret from one of his best friends. Jihoon had been close to telling Seongcheol way too many times, but he’d been too much of a coward in all of them. It was as good as any other day to tell him, and he was running on three hours of sleep and a liter of coffee, so he figured he would just get that out of the way.

All because of a stupid crush. He was risking his whole life because of a pretty boy. He did trust Seungcheol more than he trusted his own self, but it still felt like too much. The ten minutes Jeonghan had told him about became half an hour as he paced around his apartment, waiting anxiously for them to arrive.

Seeing Seungcheol’s face made him want to cry as he opened the door. He was really going to do it.

“Hey, you! Jeonghan refused to tell me what this was about.”

“I’m gay,” he blurted out.

“Oh,” Seungcheol said after a long, awkward pause. “That’s good. Still doesn’t explain much.”

“Come on! Be nicer! At least give him a hug!” Jeonghan elbowed him.

“Please don’t,” Jihoon grimaced as he threw himself on the couch. “So, yeah, I’m gay. And I have an emergency.”

“Jihoon has a boyfriend!” Jeonghan sang.

“What?! Not yet,” he defended himself. “I mean, not ever. I mean, I’m confused. Help me.”

“Okay. Give me your phone. I’ll work it out.”

“No!”

“Stop that, Jeonghan. Let’s give him some wise words of advice,” Seungcheol said, offering him a smile that was at least a little creepy.

“Oh, yes, a loser giving another loser love advice,” Jeonghan laughed.

“As if you’re any better.”

“Shut up, Cheol!”

“Uh,” Jihoon said. “You came here to help me, not fight over who’s the biggest loser. We all know it’s both of you.”

“No, we all know it’s Seungcheol. Go on, though. I need to know who the lucky boy is.”

He cringed at Jeonghan’s words. Even mentioning boys made him feel way too vulnerable. It was as if everyone in the world could hear them talk.

“Have you ever heard of Junhui Wen?”

“The beauty guru?”

Jihoon nodded.

“Of course I do! He was at your meet and greet. I got a picture with him,” Jeonghan smiled, earning an eyeroll from Seungcheol.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him. What’s the deal?”

“The deal is that he’s cute. And I went out with him yesterday.”

Both boys’ chins dropped as they looked at Jihoon.

“This is very uncomfortable,” he stated.

“Jihoon! I can’t believe you snatched the dreamiest boy on YouTube!”

“I thought that was me,” Seungcheol frowned.

 

“That’s even more uncomfortable. I didn’t snatch him. I just… grabbed coffee with him. And we went to his dorm.”

“On the first date?!”

He ignored Jeonghan’s shock and tried to keep a straight face. Unfortunately, not much about him was straight.

“He got coffee on his shirt, because he’s an absolute dork, and we had a very peaceful walk to his very cute dorm room. Which had a poster of my face. That part was horrifying,” Jihoon paused with a grim look on his face. “But, yeah, I’m about to die because I can’t stop obsessing over him and how ridiculous I must have been yesterday.”

“Has he texted you?”

“Yes. This morning. Why?”

“Then you’re just fine,” Seungcheol declared. “He wouldn’t be texting you if he thought you were ridiculous.”

“Yes. Go get him.”

“Don’t you understand? I’m famous!”

“Thanks for reminding us,” Jeonghan said.

“I’m famous. Which means I can’t even dream of dating a boy.”

“Fuck that. Status is not everything,” Seungcheol crossed his arms.

“It’s everything I have.”

Jeonghan pulled him by the shoulders, making him lie on his lap. Jihoon didn’t complain. He was usually wary of touching and displays of affection, but at that moment his best friend’s hands running through his hair were all he needed.

“Come on. You have us. And we don’t have much, but we’re family.”

“Yes, Jihoonie. Date all the boys. Well, maybe not Jeonghan, because that would be weird. But yeah, follow your dreams.”

“Hey! Why not me?!”

“Nope. Just… no.”

“Alright. You guys are not helping.”

Seungcheol shrugged.

“I’ve already given you my wise words.”

Jihoon sighed. It would be a long day, followed by a long night. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of coming out to the media. He had lost everything once, and it was just too much to think about it happening again. Seungcheol had been right, though: no matter what, he had his friends, and that made him braver and stronger.

“I can see your brain working. Please stop thinking so hard. You’ll end up exploding.”

There was something soft in Jeonghan’s voice, and Jihoon let himself feel comforted by it. He could overthink his interactions with Junhui later.

When he woke up, he didn’t know whether minutes or hours had passed. The way his back hurt made him sure it had been the latter. There was a post-it note on the arm of the couch, and he read it before getting up.

_Dearest Jihoon,_

_We couldn’t stay all night, but we made sure to give you a blanket and put some takeout on the fridge._

_With love,_

_Jeonghan_

Jihoon smiled at the message and checked the time on his phone. It was just after two in the morning, and he felt restless, but his improvised bed was too warm for him to get up. He decided to take another nap before waking up again, tormented by strange dreams. By then, it was almost five, and therefore a decent time to start his day.

After brushing his teeth and washing his face, Jihoon was faced with having nothing to do. Sometimes, he imagined how his life would have been if he had gone after higher education instead of leaving everything to live off YouTube and odd jobs. In the end, he knew it would have been terrible, but the idea kept creeping back into his mind and bringing memories along with it.

He did everything he could to keep his focus on positive things. He looked at comments on his latest video and went through fan gifts he had gotten during his shows and took a long shower, but it was all still there. Maybe they were just a part of him, that constant fear and those endless doubts.

The day passed as slowly as it could. He texted Jeonghan and Seungcheol to thank them for the food and company and answered calls about potential shows, but even his voice didn’t sound like it was his own. Although it was strange, it was not rare for him to feel that way. It happened for hours or days or weeks and disappeared when it wanted to. He tried not to think about it.

It took him three cups of black coffee for him to feel like his hands pertained to himself again, but he couldn’t let himself get any deeper on that episode. Things were happening. Fans were demanding more shows. His management was thinking of a national tour. He needed his thoughts to stop floating away and his eyes to be able to focus, so he took many deep breaths and ignored his own voice calling him a liar inside his head.

Just when he decided to put his phone down and practice a new song on the guitar, it buzzed.

_hey! up for coffee?_

Jihoon entertained the possibility of saying no until his fingers typed a quick yes.

_good. meet you in 10_

He felt a smile make its way into his lips as he thought of Junhui. Maybe the day wouldn’t end so badly. He changed into something more suitable for going out and brushed his hair before catching a cab to the coffee shop near the campus. Lately, many new fansites for him had been opened, and he couldn’t risk looking disheveled.

Junhui was already there when he arrived, but he didn’t look angry. In fact, he almost didn’t notice Jihoon as he sat down, looking up from his book only after hearing his shy greeting.

“Oh, hi! You look pale. What happened?”

Jihoon felt painfully aware of his own body, and while he was thankful for seeing things from his own perspective again it was also hard to learn how to breathe again.

“Come on,” Junhui ducked his head. “If I tell you about my day, will you tell me about yours?”

He ended up nodding just to listen to Junhui talk. His accent made every word sound good, and the way his eyes shone when he spoke about theater made Jihoon’s heart miss a beat. He was just full of beauty.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Jihoon grimaced before speaking.

“It was okay.”

“That’s not what we agreed on!”

“Well, you’re the one who wanted to go into detail with yours,” Jihoon teased him, earning a dramatic sigh. “Okay, okay. It was really a regular day, though. I just answered some calls and looked at fan stuff.”

“Then why do you look sad?”

It was Jihoon’s turn to sigh. He could hide the real reason from Junhui – which was the wise choice – or trust him. He chose the middle ground.

“Because long ago I made a choice, and I can’t go back now.”

Junhui frowned and reached for his hand under the table.

“Look, Jihoon, I… I don’t know what’s wrong. And I won’t push, because it seems serious. But whatever it is, you’re stronger than it.”

“Thanks,” he said, and for a moment he allowed himself to feel good. Junhui still hadn’t let go of his hand and was tracing circles over it with his thumb, and his smile felt more genuine than anything Jihoon had done that day. If he was a normal person, maybe that could happen every day.

“And now you look sad again. Look, grab a coffee and let’s get away from here. I know how to cheer you up.”

“Should I be scared?”

“Maybe,” Junhui grinned.

Deciding to trust Junhui with whatever wicked plan he had made, Jihoon grabbed a cup of coffee, said goodbye to the waiter, who was apparently a big fan of his, and followed him out of the shop.

“Do you mind walking? We’re not going too far. And the city looks pretty.”

He shrugged, even though he knew he wouldn’t care to see the sights. Not with Junhui by his side.

“Then let’s go.”

They walked in a slow pace, with Junhui stopping every once in a while to point to his favorite buildings and shops. He did most of the talking, avoiding Jihoon’s questions about where they were about to go and speaking about college and his childhood instead. He had been a child actor in China before coming to South Korea, and had never lost his love for cinema and acting. YouTube had come as a way to distract himself from all the studying he did in high school, and currently it was still one of his favorite things. Junhui’s soft voice made time go faster, and although his calves were complaining, Jihoon was smiling by the time they stopped.

“This is… a warehouse,” he frowned.

“No, my friend. It is _the_ warehouse.”

Jihoon raised two questioning eyebrows as Junhui opened the door. He could hear the muffled sound of music coming from inside the warehouse. As he stepped in, he hoped they wouldn’t get involved in anything illicit.

He followed Junhui, who walked with confidence to the back of the place. Dust danced in the air and the walls desperately needed new paint, but the place felt somehow cozy. As they walked, the music became louder and he could hear masculine voices speaking loudly.

“I’m home!” Junhui announced.

The door to one of the rooms opened to let him in. When Jihoon peered inside, he saw many mirrors and many boys.

“Hey, guys. Jihoon, meet my friends. Friends, meet Jihoon.”

He raised a hand in a shy wave, offering the boys a smile. Many of them had wild haircuts and were dressed in colorful attire.

“Wait. You’re _Jihoon_ ,” the youngest-looking one said.

“What?!”

“Yes, yes, he’s Jihoon Lee. He’s also a very good friend, so please don’t scare him off.”

“Us?! Scare him off?! We’re such lovely people!”

“You sure are, Hoshi,” Junhui’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Jihoon wasn’t sure where to stand, so he hovered awkwardly by Junhui’s side as the boys got closer.

“I’m Chan,” the young boy who still looked astounded said, almost as shy as Jihoon. “It’s amazing to meet you. I’m a big fan, actually, and…”

“Stop embarrassing us,” another boy said, rather grumpily, but still looking amused. “I’m Minghao. Junhui’s best friend. Since elementary school.”

“Yeah, yeah, _anyway_ ,” yet another boy appeared from behind Minghao. “I’m Soonyoung, or Hoshi, and I’m the leader of this mess. We’re Rocket, a dance cover group. It’s nice to meet you. Shua! Hansol! Introduce yourselves, please!”

As he listened to the boys speak, Jihoon felt lost. He hardly knew how to interact with one person; in groups, his almost nonexistent charisma faded away completely. Still, they didn’t seem to mind. Every one of them buzzed with energy, and he could feel it in himself, too. Something about the music, that still played loudly even though no one was dancing, and the wild looks of the boys, who sported colorful hair and questionable pants, made him feel just a little bit freer. They were his age. They were boys, dancing through the afternoon and talking about everything and anything; they had their whole lives ahead of them. Maybe he did, too.

“So, do you guys want to see our new routine? It’s for this really good mashup Mingyu made.”

“Sure,” Junhui answered for Jihoon. “Come here. Let’s sit down.”

He did as Junhui said. They sat side by side on the cold floor as the boys got ready to perform. It all felt magical; in his reality, young people who didn’t crumble under the pressure of society didn’t exist. They didn’t dye their hair just for the sake of it, without a millionaire company urging them to. They didn’t laugh at mistakes and start from scratch.

The boys danced, and they watched, and Jihoon let Junhui take his hand and put it on his lap. He let himself smile, too, because that world was so far away from reality that he could be anything. He could be himself.

“Your hands are so soft,” Junhui whispered.

“They’re all calloused from the guitar,” Jihoon bit his lip. “Yours are actually soft, though. Must be all the beauty products.”

“Probably.”

They laughed, even though it wasn’t funny, and stole glances at each other every time they thought they wouldn’t be caught. Jihoon couldn’t stop smiling.


	4. If I don't deceive myself

Saying goodbye to Jihoon had been the worst event of the week by far. Somehow, he always managed to make Junhui forget about the rest of the world and only think about how happy he felt. Once, he had attributed it to his voice. After meeting him, though, he knew it was something even deeper; he just didn’t know what. The second he had recorded that day featured their shoes and the boys from Rocket dancing in the background, slightly out of focus, and Junhui regretted not having recorded more of it. Recording it all, though, would have meant not holding Jihoon’s hand, and he wasn’t sure he would have been able to live with that. He had always been a touchy-feely person, but even that changed around him; suddenly, even the smallest brush of fingers had become so meaningful he couldn’t get his heart to slow down.

As he indulged himself with a Twitter break, his life felt very unfair. How could he focus on studying when he knew a beautiful boy was just minutes away from him, sulking around on his own? Keeping his grades up felt like a chore compared to staring at the ceiling and thinking about him. And the worst part was that Jihoon was everywhere. When he opened up his mentions, he saw pictures of them together in the coffee shop and he felt his chest tighten until he remembered they were just friends. There was nothing harmful about having a friend. Still, he messaged him.

_hey, did you see the photos of us?_

The answer came in fast.

_yeah. guess it was that friendly waiter. why do people feel the need to take pictures of me every time I go out_

_Because you’re beautiful_ , Junhui thought. At least that was his reason for wanting to register every smile Jihoon had ever offered him in his memory forever. He didn’t type that, though. He wanted to keep his dignity and their friendship intact.

He studied under the promise that, if he did, he would be able to go out with Jihoon again during that week. Hoshi had invited them to watch more rehearsals, since according to him Jihoon made Junhui less insufferable, and they had texted each other for hours that night, full of plans and ideas for their next meetings. Even though they had known each other for a week, it felt like so much longer.

Without their coffee meetups, days passed by lazily. Though abundant, text messages weren’t enough; he wanted to see Jihoon and touch him and make him smile his shy smile. The next video he posted was the breaking point for Junhui. That afternoon, he sent Jihoon a text demanding to meet him for coffee. Jihoon didn’t complain.

Sometimes, Junhui wondered if Jihoon was some kind of magical being. Time always slowed down around him, making everything softer and full of something that felt too much like home. It was as if those afternoons they spent together happened in a different dimension; a gentler one.

They spoke about their lives and Jihoon’s career. That was what he was the most open about, and Junhui didn’t mind listening and seeing the excited way he spoke about the reactions to his first mini album.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised, anyway,” Junhui said. “You’re amazing.”

Jihoon looked to his side as a small smile appeared on his lips.

“Says the one who was on the verge of tears over his project grade. You know you’re amazing, too.”

It was Junhui’s turn to get flustered, and he took a vigorous sip of his latte before answering. He had never been too confident on his own work, but only a few people knew that.

“You know geniuses are misunderstood.”

“Of course,” Jihoon raised his eyebrows.

The truth was that Junhui didn’t know how to handle Jihoon. He was talented and beautiful, but also sarcastic and kind and shy and so _real_ , and sometimes it was overwhelming to think about just how lucky Junhui was to have met him. There wasn’t a single part of Jihoon that he didn’t love.

It was a sunny afternoon when they decided to go back to Junhui’s dorm and record a video together. They didn’t have a specific plan; all they knew was that the Rocket rehearsal had been too short and that they didn’t want to say goodbye just yet. As they walked to the campus, they made absurd suggestions to each other, giggling like children.

“Maybe I could put makeup on you,” Jihoon said in a very serious tone. There was mischief in his eyes.

Junhui considered the safety of it. The worst-case scenario was getting stabbed in the eye with eyeliner.

“That’s definitely better than your last idea.”

“You know I was kidding!”

“Do I? I’m not sure,” he teased.

Jihoon rolled his eyes and followed him into the dorm building. Junhui ended up approving of his idea after pretending to ponder until they got inside the room and regretting it right after, when he realized he would have to endure Jihoon’s cockiness for the rest of the week. Luckily, his roommate, Wonwoo, spent most of the time out of their room, so they had it all for themselves.

“Alright. Are you ready?”

The answer was a panicked face, which made Junhui laugh as he dragged his soft box to the side of the desk he recorded on. Jihoon watched as he set up the camera and picked up two make-up bags.

“That’s… a lot,” he said, looking at the bags in Junhui’s hands.

“That’s a very acceptable amount of make-up, thank you very much.”

“I mean, my manager obligates me to put on some concealer under my eyes because he says I look sad without it, but you don’t do this because you must. You have fun during the process. That’s a weird concept.”

“The face is a blank canvas, and we’re both artists! How could it not be fun?” Junhui asked with indignance. “Come on. I’ll get Wonwoo’s chair for you.”

They sat next to each other and Junhui picked up a bottle of make-up remover from his desk, applying it to his face with a cotton square and offering another cotton square to Jihoon, who took it without questioning him. After that, he turned the camera on.

“You didn’t even warn me!” Jihoon protested.

“I did ask you if you were ready.”

“Yeah, about a million years ago. I forgot.”

Junhui rolled his eyes and looked at the camera with his brightest smile.

“Hello, guys! Today we have a very special guest.”

Jihoon resumed his panicked face, waving awkwardly to the camera.

“I don’t usually talk in my videos. I’m sorry if this is weird.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll learn with the best,” Junhui offered him a grin. “So, as I was saying, today we’re together so this very special guest can do my make-up. But you all know this is a channel of self-care and self-love before anything else, which means… face masks!”

He picked up the small box where he kept his skincare products and handed it to Jihoon.

“Pick one.”

“This is a lot of pressure,” Jihoon complained.

“It’s for your own good! You will be refreshed!”

“Okay, okay. I guess pomegranate sounds good.”

Junhui ripped the package open with excitement and unfolded the cool sheet mask, pressing it against Jihoon’s face. His skin was soft and, for a second, Junhui lost track of what he was doing.

“That’s cold!”

“It helps the health of your pores! Plus, that’s a great look on you. You should keep it.”

Jihoon looked at the viewfinder and opened his mouth in horror.

“How long is this staying on?”

“Ten minutes.”

“I will survive. Hopefully.”

Junhui burst out laughing as Jihoon snatched a bag from the desk, rummaging through its contents. He opened the other one, as well, looking at all the brushes and products with curiosity.

“Okay. I have watched your videos. I know how to do this.”

Junhui raised both his eyebrows but didn’t say anything as he watched Jihoon pick up products and read their labels. His hands were small and pale, and Junhui could still remember touching them.

“Alright. Are you ready?”

“Are you?”

Jihoon nodded eagerly.

“Then I’m ready.”

“Okay. So, _guys_ ,” he directed his attention to the camera and held up a small bottle of foundation. “I’m putting this on his face first. Using, uh, this.”

His choices had actually been wise, even though he had forgotten the primer. He used a beauty blender to put foundation on his face, complaining about how liquid it was.

“It looks so easy when you do it.”

“That’s because I’m a pro,” Junhui smiled.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m finished. Now I’m going to put this ink thing on your eyebrows, alright?”

“Show it to the audience!”

Jihoon’s face was flushed when he raised a brown gel bottle to the camera, quickly opening it up.

“Okay, I have no idea how to do this.”

Junhui held his breath as Jihoon came closer again, holding the gel applier clumsily and tentatively poking his eyebrow with it, making him laugh.

“Stop laughing at me!”

He tried to, but giggles kept escaping his mouth as he felt Jihoon draw over his eyebrows.

“Now I’m gonna… wait, I know the right word. I’m going to sculpt your brows with this concealer thingy.”

Jihoon didn’t wait for approval, using his own fingers to highlight the area around his eyebrows. The tips of his fingers were calloused, but his touch was soft. Junhui hoped he wouldn’t notice the way he breathed, faster every time Jihoon dragged his fingers over his face.

“Okay. This is what I have been wanting to do ever since I first watched your videos.”

He tried not to soften at the idea of Jihoon watching him through his cellphone, finding the whole concept of make-up weird but still clicking the next video. It was hard. Now, he happily held a bottle of blue eyeliner, unscrewing it and looking at the content in awe. Junhui couldn’t help but feel a little scared.

“Wait. I’m taking this thing off. I need to concentrate,” Jihoon announced, discarding his face mask. “Now I’m ready.”

Junhui closed his eyes before being asked to, fearing for the health of his vision. He tried to imagine Jihoon’s face as he felt the side of his hand touch his skin.

“You look terrified.”

“I think I have a good reason for that.”

“Shut up,” Jihoon said, and he could hear the smile in his voice.

It was excruciating to feel the cold liquid eyeliner on his eyelids and not be able to see it. When Jihoon finally announced he was done, he opened his eyes quickly, looking at the viewfinder.

“There was an attempt.”

Jihoon burst out with laughter as he slapped his shoulder, shoving him to the side and making him laugh too. It took them a few seconds to catch their breath, and when they did Jihoon was already holding a different make-up product.

“I never imagined you were a glitter person.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

He did his best to keep a straight face as Jihoon applied highlighter on his cheeks liberally, tapping a bit of it on his nose as well. Jihoon had chosen the strongest highlighter he had, a rose gold liquid one that he had used less than a drop of.

“Beautiful,” he sighed dramatically.

“Thanks. I know.”

Jihoon sighed again, now more annoyed than awestruck.

“I think I’m done. I’ve made every single one of my artistic dreams come true.”

“What about my lips?”

When he spoke, he didn’t expect Jihoon’s gaze to drop to his mouth, lingering there.

“They’re hopeless. There’s nothing I could do to help.”

“Oh, come on!”

He laughed, and so did Junhui, even though his mind was still focused on the way Jihoon had looked at him just a few seconds before.

“Now, Jihoon, how would you rate your performance?”

“Definitely a thirteen out of ten. The canvas did help, though,” he mused, smiling at Junhui in a way he had never done before.

“I can agree that your skilled hands and my beautiful face make for a very good pair. But I also think I cannot blind you guys with my natural rose gold glow any longer. My dear audience, what do you think of my new look? Is make-up Jihoon’s true talent? Leave an answer in the comments! And, of course, give us a thumbs up if you enjoyed watching this and would wear this innovative make-up look. If you want to, you can also subscribe to my channel, and, of course, Jihoon’s. He’s a very unknown YouTuber, so go help him!”

Jihoon chuckled at his remark, waving at the camera with make-up stained hands. Junhui was glad he had been able to even speak after that smile.

“Thanks for having me! Bye!”

“Bye!”

Junhui stopped recording and looked at the mirror beside them, still amused by Jihoon’s attempt at eyeliner. It was wavy and uncertain, but the wings looked very straight, even though they pointed in completely different directions.

“Do you love it?” Jihoon asked cockily.

“Of course.”

“Me too. I think I found my true calling in life.”

They laughed as Junhui sprawled himself on his bed, leaving space for Jihoon to sit.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Yeah. The face mask was actually refreshing.”

“You can take some home if you want,” he suggested. “I have plenty. A company sent me, like, a whole box of them.”

Jihoon nodded and they slipped into a comfortable silence. Looking for something to do with his hands, Junhui decided to get his camera and take a look at the video, being joined by Jihoon. They couldn’t help but laugh at the footage where Jihoon had his face covered by a sheet mask and Junhui was slowly getting his face transformed into an abstract work of art. The viewfinder was tiny, and Junhui found that it did not bother him if it meant getting closer to Jihoon in order to be able to watch it.

When Jihoon left, he went right back to his desk and began editing. That way, it could be his next upload, and he could procrastinate from schoolwork. It was hard to decide which parts should be kept in; at the same time, he wanted to post it unedited and not post it at all. It all just felt too intimate in a way, even though he couldn’t figure out why.

A few days later, when he was able to pick it up again and render it, he sent it to Jihoon for approval. He also sent an invitation to a rehearsal along with it, because he missed him and so did his friends. Most of them had already declared their preference for Jihoon, but Junhui thought it was just because he knew next to nothing about dance and got impressed very easily. They met in their coffee shop – Jihoon had called it that one day and it just stuck – and walked to the warehouse, speaking about Rocket’s newest video and the boys’ lives beyond the group. When they got there, they sat down to watch their friends dance and banter, as it had become habitual for them to do, and held hands, as it had also become habitual for them to do.

“I just never thought people could be so light,” Jihoon said, quietly, as they headed out of the warehouse.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re roughly the same age, and it’s just so foreign to me to have a life so full of happiness.”

“Jihoon,” Junhui stopped walking and frowned. “Aren’t you happy?”

He nodded, but his face said otherwise.

“You know you can tell me the truth, right?”

Jihoon just sighed.

“Wouldn’t it be a little unfair of me to be unhappy when I’ve got fame and fortune?”

Junhui had thought many things about Jihoon before. That he was unhappy was never one of them. As he spoke, there was an edge to his voice, and Junhui wanted to stop walking and hug him until it went away.

“You have the right to feel things, Jihoon.”

“Not if I want to keep my career successful.”

“Your career doesn’t matter more than your personal life,” Junhui insisted.

“My career is my personal life.”

Without even noticing, they had come back to Junhui’s campus. He sat down on a bench and patted the empty space by his side so Jihoon would sit, too. He didn’t protest.

“Why have you never spoken about it?”

“I don’t speak about it. Not even to my childhood friends.”

“Not even to your family?”

“They kicked me out when I was eighteen.”

“Oh.”

Jihoon slouched a little. Junhui thought about his own family; though they had never had wealth or stability, they had raised him with as much love as humanly possible. It was impossible for him to understand how a family could choose not to do that.

“It wasn’t so great before that, anyway. That’s mostly why I started a YouTube channel. Singing was pretty much the only thing that made me happy. That and talking to my friends, but they went to college, and I… didn’t.”

Junhui looked at him, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. In times like this, he rarely knew what to say.

“I’m a big mess,” he gave Junhui a sad smile, and Junhui wanted to hold him in his arms and never let go, but he didn’t.

Instead, he touched his shoulder lightly and let go too soon. Jihoon got up and it took only a few seconds for the atmosphere to go back to normal, whatever normal was. Junhui wanted to know more, but it felt like their conversation had happened centuries ago.

“Well, I’m part of your mess now,” Junhui said, softly. “Whether you like it or not.”

They said their goodbyes and, as he walked to his dorm, it was like the whole world had shifted under his feet. He wanted to run back to Jihoon. He wanted him to never be sad again. He wanted a million things and could have none of them, so he spent the rest of the day at the library and picked up too many books he would never have the time to read and ignored the constant presence of that sad smile in the back of his mind.

Junhui needed to talk to his friends, and so he did. Jihoon couldn’t go to the next rehearsal, and instead of messing around and pranking the boys as Junhui usually did when he was alone with them, he quietly spoke to Joshua, who always had an answer for everything, and Hansol, who despite having been born years after Junhui seemed to be a thousand years older.

Soon enough, it was time for Junhui to upload a new video, and he posted a cryptic tweet about special collaborations as it loaded. He and Jihoon hadn’t talked about their pasts since that conversation, and he wished he could just let go of the weird feeling in his chest. The conversation with the boys had helped, but he still couldn’t shake it off. At least seeing his genuine smile on the screen of the laptop made him feel giddy and accomplished. He wanted that smile to last forever.

He waited excitedly for the comments to start to flood his notifications. He loved the first minutes after uploading a video, when his ideas were no longer ideas and people could see the content he spent so many hours producing. It didn’t take too long until people in every social media he owned were freaking out over Jihoon’s appearance. Though he posted regularly, he kept his private life to himself, not even giving interviews. Junhui hadn’t even noticed how meaningful that joint video had been in that sense before it became public.

After putting his phone on silent so it would stop buzzing in his hands, he decided to look at the comments that had already been left in the video.

_look at juns heart eyes at 04:22 im screaming_

_no but JIHOON’S HEART EYES. I sense a new ship_

_there’s no heterosexual explanation for the way junhui bit his lip when jihoon came close @ 17:19 we stan a couple_

He rolled his eyes and clicked the timestamps, expecting to be amused at the fans’ impressions. And then he had to catch his breath.

The way he looked at Jihoon looked very personal. Looking through someone else’s eyes, he could see how it was readable as something deeper than admiration. But that was it, he thought to himself. He felt nothing more than appreciation for Jihoon. Maybe a little attraction. Maybe a lot of it; no one could deny that he was too beautiful for his own good. But that didn’t need to be a problem.

Unless he wanted it to be.

Suddenly, Junhui was hit by the realization that he didn’t just want to kiss Jihoon sometimes. He wanted to be by his side and make him see just how wonderful he was. He wanted to sleep with him, and it wasn’t even in an indecent way. He just wanted him, as close as possible, unguarded and uncovered.

Junhui was in trouble.


	5. What can't I do?

Jihoon’s initial reaction was panic.

The first time he realized it had been when Junhui was in the middle of telling him a story about his dormmate, Wonwoo, and he simply could not focus on his voice. The only thing he could do was look at his mouth, paying attention to the way his lips curved in laughter as he told a particularly funny part and wondering about just how he tasted. He could barely contain himself as he tried to guide his stare back into Junhui’s eyes, and when he did the answer was a funny look and an eyeroll.

“You were up all night again, weren’t you?” Junhui asked, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie.

Those days, they hardly tried to hide anything from each other. Junhui was an open book, and Jihoon was learning how to be honest little by little, and he was in love.

His second reaction was denial.

He couldn’t love Junhui. They had only known each other for a few months, and they were so different, and Junhui deserved so much more. Still, he felt his heart drop every time he spotted the familiar blond hair and golden skin in their coffee shop. Being close to him was almost painful, but in a delightful way, and Jihoon had no idea what to do. He decided to just save those feelings for later.

And then Junhui invaded his writing, and Jihoon felt like he couldn’t take it anymore. His thoughts spilled into poetry with little to no effort when he thought of that smile and the way they would always talk until Junhui fell asleep with his phone in his hands, insisting on keeping him company even though he had his own life at college. Jihoon wrote and sang and composed every night, and he promised himself that was going to be the only outlet for his inconvenient crush. As long as he kept the identity of his muse a secret, all would be fine.

Except it wasn’t. When he presented a few of his newest lyrics to Seokmin, the producer of his first mini album, he was immediately met with a stern look.

“That will raise a lot of suspicion,” Seokmin said, his eyebrows still knit together as he read the annotations in Jihoon’s journal.

“Wouldn’t that be good for my career?” Jihoon asked hopefully.

“You know what people have been saying lately, Jihoon.”

“Actually, I don’t.”

“Oh, indie artists,” Seokmin let out a dramatic sigh. “Always so stubborn. Always thinking they can roam freely about with no management at all.”

“I do have management!”

“Well, they should have told you everyone in the country is betting on whether you’re gay or not.”

As the words sunk down into Jihoon’s stomach, he felt like getting up and leaving.

“So what if I were?” He asks instead.

“I didn’t take you for the subversive type. The thing is: you’re skillful. One of the best lyricists I’ve met in years. But that’s nothing if people won’t buy it, and while teenagers are getting some pretty progressive views, their parents are still… parents. This song is great, but you can see it’s about a guy.”

“You speak like you’re eighty years old. You’re my age, Seokmin.”

“The difference is that I’m not an idol!”

“Neither am I!”

Seokmin raised an eyebrow and Jihoon slumped back into his chair.

“I’m your friend, Jihoon. And, honestly, I think this is amazing. I wish I’d had access to this kind of music when I was younger and lost. But…”

“Come on,” he pleaded. “Stop talking like you’re an old man and let’s make this work.”

In the end, Jihoon’s stubbornness got the best of Seokmin. Or maybe it had been the beautiful, slightly terrifying budget for his next mini album. Whatever it was, he couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over him.

The problem was not that he wanted to release those songs. They felt too intimate, a part of himself he was only starting to learn about, and the growing pains made him frightened sometimes. However, they were the only thing he could bring himself to write. Junhui had cast some kind of spell on him, and he constantly dreamed about bleached hair and easy laughter, even when he was awake.

If his friends noticed, they didn’t say a thing. Since he had come out, so had Seungcheol, and they all felt like they had centuries to catch up on. It was easy to listen to him and Jeonghan bicker and tell their stories about dating. He had nothing to share, anyway, and they never minded his silence; in fact, they valued his skills as a listener, even though lately he had been more absentminded than usual. They kept on having dinner together once a week, sprawled on the sofa and on the large living room rug, eating takeout most of the time because they were all too tired to even go to the kitchen. When Jihoon had too much work to do, he always ended up neglecting his basic needs, and that turned into a supermarket run at ten PM one day, but he couldn’t complain. It was nice to have something other than crackers to eat when he was surrounded by paper sheets and musical instruments.

Sometimes, as he felt his fingers become numb from strumming the same melody on the guitar for what felt like eternity, he hated himself for not hating it all. He should have avoided falling in love, but there he was instead, making music about it.

He couldn’t hate it. He couldn’t hate Junhui, and he couldn’t hate falling for him. The only thing left to loathe was himself. How could he be so calm as he risked ruining a friendship that had become essential to his life? How could he even imagine Junhui would like him back?

Junhui deserved so much better, and he felt nauseous as he looked at him, with cream smeared on his cheek and a pastry half-eaten on his plate.

“Now, you’ve been more mysterious than normal. It’s time to share,” Junhui gave him a stern look. “Is it work again? I swear, if that manager has…”

“Wait. Don’t hate my manager, he wants the best for me. This time it’s…”

“The best?! That man wants you to drop ten kilos by your next tour, Jihoon! That’s atrocious!”

Jihoon sighed. He couldn’t argue, and he didn’t want to. It felt nice to know Junhui care, even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s not him this time. It’s the producer.”

“Oh, DK again.”

“Yes, DK again,” he smiled, even though some part of him felt guilty. Seokmin was a public figure, after all. “We had this debate on whether I should release what I’ve been writing or not, and he’s so rational. Can you believe DK, shiny prince of idol survival shows, is actually a pain in the ass?!”

Junhui laughed into his latte.

“It’s a shame. His smile is too pretty to be wasted.”

“Anyway,” Jihoon continued, feeling strange even though he couldn’t see why. “He was opposed to producing some of the songs. Well, most of the songs. Because they’re about a boy.”

He hadn’t meant to say it. He just wanted to get Junhui’s focus back, and he ended up letting out his biggest secret, out in the open for everyone to hear.

“Oh,” Junhui’s eyes widened.

Jihoon looked around and considered his chances at escaping.

“Oh.”

“I say you should go for it anyway,” Junhui offered, and he could see his smile was unsure.

“What if he’s right? What if I destroy my career?”

“Then at least you’d have your truth. That’s better than living in the dark.”

Even though his mind was racing, Junhui’s words made his heart get closer to its normal rhythm. Jihoon let out a deep breath.

“It sounds so easy.”

“Maybe it is,” Junhui suggested.

“It’s not, and you know it. What will the fans think?”

“Look, I used to be a fan, and I think it’s a great idea to sing about whatever you want.”

“Used to?” Jihoon asked indignantly.

Junhui laughed.

“It would be weird to be your fan now that I know you, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, you always tell Chan you’re his biggest fan,” Jihoon crossed his arms.

“That’s… different.”

“How so?”

“I used to thirst over you!” Junhui cried out. “It became a joke for my own fandom because I couldn’t shut up about your face!”

“Oh, really?”

“Stop looking so smug!”

Jihoon threw his head back laughing, and soon Junhui was laughing too, and they forgot what they had been laughing about on the first place. Or they just pretended to because they were both too flustered to even think about it.

The way they touched one another made him feel worse every day. First, it was just an annoying awareness of his own body, but then it became this pang to his chest every time Junhui would take his hand and play with his fingers or hug him goodbye. He was touchy-feely in a way Jihoon had never seen before – not even Jeonghan, who had managed to stick his hand into his back pocket more than once, was worse than him. And Jihoon couldn’t bring himself to dislike it.

When they parted ways for the afternoon, he immediately missed him, and he let himself feel it as he went back to his apartment and wrote about longing for someone who’s too close yet too far.

As Jihoon wrote, he explored the possibilities in front of him. He could release the songs he had been working on and feel a little less like a liar. He could also try to create something else; he still had some months to work on his music before having to worry about deadlines. It was a pleasant idea, but it felt impossible. He wrote about his life, and his life involved dramatic boys and doubts and too many new discoveries for him to keep track of. It wouldn’t be easy to go back to the writing he did all those months ago for his debut; the person he had been then seemed far away from the person he was becoming.

All he wanted was to be less scared. Still, he couldn’t manage that when his career was his biggest – or only – accomplishment. When he talked it out with Seungcheol and Jeonghan, they insisted that life was too short and that he was wasting time thinking about things that didn’t matter, but it wasn’t that simple for Jihoon.

Maybe no one understood him. Maybe he just wasn’t making himself clear. It was easy to dwell on the first option, but he knew it wasn’t true.

“Jihoon, should I worry about you?” Junhui asked from his desk on a lazy afternoon. For the past hour, he had been pretending to do schoolwork while Jihoon pretended not to be having an existential crisis.

“Yes,” he decided to say.

It was all Junhui needed to sit beside him in bed and stare at him until he spoke again.

“I’m so fucking scared,” he confessed, and it should have felt better to take that weight off his shoulder.

“What are you scared of?”

He let Junhui hold him, treading a careful hand through his hair and easing him into his touch.

“A lot of things.”

Junhui let out a small laugh.

“Be specific.”

“I’m scared of… do you remember that talk I had with Seokmin? So, I’m scared of that. I’m scared of whatever I’m doing with my career.”

“Why? Your fans adore you.”

“Would they still adore me if I was gay?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“My parents didn’t.”

There were a few seconds of silence between them before anyone could dare to speak again. The air felt heavy around Jihoon.

“I’m so sorry,” Junhui whispered. “No one should have a say in this. Only you. Don’t let people try to convince you otherwise.”

“Being gay is still punishable with death in some countries,” Jihoon said, because he didn’t want to think about how right Junhui was.

“Lots of things were unfair in lots of places. You know what people did? They fought. They’re still fighting, Jihoon. We can fight, too.”

Junhui’s look was too truthful, too vulnerable, and suddenly it was hard to look back at him. Jihoon buried his face against his shirt, letting the soft scent of clean clothes and perfume calm him down.

“I’m not a good fighter. I gave up once. What if I do it again?”

“You get back up and start fighting again. Like you did before.”

“I’m lucky I lived before, you know. Jeonghan found me. Worst hospital stay of my life. I don’t wanna do it again.”

He couldn’t see what Junhui’s face looked like, but he could feel another arm get thrown around him, holding him by the waist.

“Then don’t.”

“I’m scared of it getting bad again.”

“It doesn’t have to. You know, we should find you a therapist,” Junhui mused, resting his chin on top on Jihoon’s head. “Maybe some better managing, because honestly…”

“You all speak like my management team wants me dead!”

“Oh, so Jeonghan and Seungcheol agree with me? Very wise of them. I think we should all have dinner someday.”

The idea was so absurd that, in the middle of his crisis, Jihoon found the strength to chuckle.

“I’m serious!” Junhui protested, all of a sudden moving his hand from Jihoon’s hair to his jaw and untangling himself from him slightly. “You know, I mean it when I say I’m here for you.”

“I know,” Jihoon said, and tried not to notice how tempting his lips looked up close.

“And I know that you hate to talk about your feelings, so if you’re venting, things must be bad.”

“Yes.”

“I’m still here, though. And I’m not leaving you anytime soon. Promise.”

Jihoon believed him. He did it because it was impossible not to; Junhui’s smile was contagious, and the way he looked at him was tender and fierce at the same time, and he was in love. He also did it because he was tired. It was exhausting to always be wary. He wanted to bask in Junhui’s light and believe all of his promises and, for the first time, just let himself be.

None of them did any work that afternoon. Junhui’s pile of books sat on his desk, along with a myriad of colorful pens, and Jihoon’s journal was left untouched inside his backpack, and they sat too close and didn’t exchange a word, too lazy to disrupt the silence. It was comfortable, and Jihoon was about to doze off, when suddenly the door opened.

“Oh no,” an unknown voice said. “Junhui, for the thousandth time, keep the door locked when you have… guests.”

“What’s the use? You’ve got the key!”

Jihoon didn’t quite know what to do, so he got up from the bed and wished to disappear as the boy at the door looked at him from behind round glasses.

“Well, at least the noise would give you time,” the boy reasoned, not seeming to acknowledge Jihoon.

“It’s not like I was naked with him!” Junhui said irritably. “Anyway, Jihoon, this is Wonwoo. Wonwoo, this is Jihoon.”

“Hi. Sorry.”

He smiled at Wonwoo’s awkwardness.

“Hi. I guess I should be going.”

“No, no, honestly, don’t mind me.”

Junhui seemed to be at the verge of either a laughing or a crying fit, and Jihoon didn’t want to aggravate it, so he just shook his head and kept on smiling what he hoped was a polite smile.

“It’s getting late, anyway. Goodbye, Wonwoo, it was nice to meet you,” he offered. “And, uh, Junhui. Thanks.”

“No problem at all,” he said, getting up from his spot in the bed and leading the short way to the door. “I’ll text you later. Bye.”

“Bye.”

He went out into the cold hallway, not expecting Junhui to be right by his side as he closed the door.

“Are you alright?” Jihoon asked.

“No. Yes. It’s just… nevermind. Take care.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed.

“You too.”

He walked the long corridor until he couldn’t bear not to look back. He didn’t understand why he had just known Junhui would still be looking at him. What took him by surprise was his face, not smiling as it often was but seemingly caught up in a complicated thought. Jihoon wanted to go back and smooth out his frown and have a long conversation about what had caused it and how ready he was to punch whatever it was.

They did have long conversations for the next days. About politics and other countries and idol culture and what to call home. About everything and nothing. Some days, they sipped their coffee quietly and tried not to hold hands as they walked to the warehouse where their friends rehearsed. When there weren’t any rehearsals, Jihoon went to Junhui’s dorm and napped as he studied. Jihoon had slept in Junhui’s bed and his favorite hoodie smelled like him; their possessions seemed to be slowly merging. The only thing that was off limits was his own apartment, until one day it wasn’t anymore.

It started with a simple, “Hey, why have I never gone to your place?”

“I don’t know. It’s messy.”

“It’s still yours.”

Jihoon had always known the fight had been lost before it began. He was in the process of discovering that there was nothing he would deny Junhui if he asked gently.

“Wanna go?”

Junhui hadn’t hesitated before picking up a velvet coat and happily leading the way out of the building and into the streets. He fidgeted and paced until their cab arrived.

“No need to be so excited. It’s just a boring apartment.”

“It’s your boring apartment, therefore I like it.”

Jihoon hid his blush with a sharp remark and they both laughed. He didn’t move when he felt Junhui’s hand over his own, linking their fingers with all the care in the world. It felt like it had been supposed to be like that all along.

“Alright. We’re here.”

He paid the driver and tried not to feel exposed as they walked inside the building. The apartment had never felt like it belonged to him, but somehow it was too personal, too vulnerable. And he didn’t even know if there was food in the pantry.

They rode the elevator in painful silence, Jihoon biting his lip until it hurt and Junhui looking around with comically wide eyes. None of them knew how to react. When they reached his floor, he led the way silently, making Junhui struggle to keep up for the first time.

“Hey! Don’t run!”

“Sorry. This is awkward,” Jihoon explained.

“Well, it’ll be even worse if you lock me out.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You love it,” Junhui smirked.

Jihoon rolled his eyes, but they both knew he did. He opened the door and let Junhui in with a gentlemanly gesture after he took his shoes off, following him and trying not to think too hard about the state of his bedroom.

“This is not messy at all! It looks like something out of a magazine!”

He laughed. It really did.

“I don’t really use these rooms. Except for when my friends come over, but they tidy it up afterwards.”

“You have so much _space_ , Jihoon. You could host a party in this living room. And you don’t even use it! This is so unfair,” Junhui groaned.

“Yeah, I should have gone with something smaller, but security became a concern after a while.”

“Oh, yes, because you’re a celebrity. I always forget it,” Junhui drawled out, making him laugh.

“No, because people are creepy. So, what do you want to do now that you’ve seen where I hide?”

“Take three hundred naps on your bed as payback for the amount of sleep you get in mine.”

Jihoon feigned annoyance, but still opened the door to his bedroom. It felt like giving Junhui the key to his heart. While he had barely touched the apartment’s original furniture in the living room and the kitchen, the bedroom was an accurate representation of himself on the inside.

“Okay. Now I understand what you meant by messy,” Junhui said. “Do you ever make your bed?”

“I’m too busy doing actually useful things.”

“Such as coming over to sleep in my bed, which is one third of yours.”

He shrugged. It was too hard to explain that he felt more secure there, right by Junhui’s side, touched by the sunlight that came from the window and the soft, faded quilt Junhui had brought from his parents’ house in China.

“Anyway, welcome to where I write my songs. And record my videos.”

“I’m honored to be here,” Junhui put a hand to his heart, his laugh light and melodic.

“You should be. No one comes here but me.”

“Not even Jeonghan and Seungcheol?”

“Nope. They got mad at me because they helped me set everything up when I moved and after one week it was a train wreck, so they stay on the couch.”

“Not your dates?”

He looked away.

“What dates?”

“Come on, Jihoon. Everyone in the world is into you.”

_Does that include you?_ He was tempted to ask. They were dangerously close, standing in the bedroom, and it would take so little effort to lay Junhui down on his large, rarely-used mattress, and he needed a deep breath and a cold shower.

“That’s very untrue.”

“No, it’s not,” Junhui said defiantly, and Jihoon felt all the air come out of his lungs at once. For the first time, his golden skin had a red tint. “Oh. This is the journal you bring to my dorm sometimes, right?”

Never had Jihoon loved and hated Junhui so much at the same time.


	6. The stars wrap around us

“Seems like this time you found an actual partner,” Wonwoo said, not looking away from his book, when Jihoon left the dormitory.

“Huh?”

“Your boyfriend. I feel like this one is gonna last,” he clarified.

“Oh? Oh, no. That’s… Jihoon is not my boyfriend.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“I’m telling you! We’re just friends!”

Wonwoo lifted an annoyed eyebrow at Junhui and went back to reading, leaving him to have a crisis on his own. Yes, he did have a tiny crush on him. No, it wasn’t anything past that.

“Hey, Wonwoo. What do you mean it doesn’t seem like it?”

Wonwoo looked at him like he couldn’t believe that question, but his glance softened as he spoke.

“You’re all sappy. He’s been here more than once, which is definitely something considering you partied every night on freshman year and always managed to bring back someone new,” he laughed when Junhui made a face. “And you’re not all over him. You’re shy, which is delightful to watch. I never knew that side of you.”

“Shut up. I can be gentle sometimes.”

“Yes, and that’s usually when he’s around.”

Sometimes Junhui truly hated Wonwoo. He was always around to make him question his whole life and be way too wise for a boy his age, as if he had no problems. Maybe he didn't. Junhui didn't know much about him apart from his love for books and terribly short sight. He had been too caught up on partying and trying not to fail all of his subjects before, and he couldn't help feeling awful about it. Wonwoo wasn't bad. In fact, he was wonderful. His shyness only added to his charm. Junhui hadn't given him the friendship he deserved, and he needed to make things right. The first thing he thought about doing was calling Jihoon and asking for help.

Junhui sighed as dramatically as he could and lied down, staring at the ceiling as if it would give him the answers he needed. Why couldn't he stop thinking about Jihoon? Why was Jihoon so infuriating? Was Wonwoo right? Why couldn't they just kiss already? He put his thin pillow over his face and tried to hide from that thought, but the pillowcase smelled like Jihoon. There was no escape from him.

He wondered if Jihoon knew about his crush. Junhui had never been known for his subtlety. And he did have a poster of his face taped to the wall the first time Jihoon had visited his dorm. It would be hard not to know. Still, Junhui hoped he didn't. They were friends, and while that had never stopped him from hooking up with anyone before, he couldn't bear the thought of their relationship being ruined. He wanted Jihoon close to him, even if it meant being just friends.

The truth was that it was not just a crush. He didn't want a simple hookup. Junhui was attached to Jihoon. He cared about him, and he felt safe around him, like his mind finally calmed down and let go of its constant anxiety.

Maybe, just maybe, Junhui was in love.

They had only known each other for a couple of months. Jihoon had just begun to open up. They still had so much to learn about each other. However, deep down he knew what they had wasn't like anything he had ever known.

Before Jihoon, romance had made Junhui feel frightened. He had liked short affairs and panicked over anything more serious than a one-night stand. The thought of having anything like that with Jihoon, though, was unbearable. With Jihoon, he wanted afternoons at the coffee shop and quiet study sessions and to hold his hand. He felt free around him, light as a feather, because he never needed to put on a show. Around Jihoon, he was just himself.

He wanted to kiss Jihoon. He wanted to sleep by his side. He wanted to show him all the beauty in the world. He was in love, and he had been since they had first met. And he shouldn’t be that surprised. Denial was one of his best skills, after all.

First, he needed to finish his required reading for the week. Then, he needed a plan. He tried not to think about Jihoon and ignore Wonwoo's worried looks. It was all his fault. Junhui could have kept on repressing it forever if it hadn't been for Wonwoo's wit. He hated him very much.

“Junhui, are you freaking out over that paper again?” Wonwoo asked. “You know, when I told you I could help, I wasn't just being nice. I wouldn't mind helping you.”

Actually, he did not hate Wonwoo at all. He loved Wonwoo, and he wanted to protect him from the evils of the world. And he did need help.

They worked on his essay dutifully – Junhui was more than happy to take his mind off Jihoon for some hours, and Wonwoo seemed even happier to get away from his own work. Wonwoo left after sundown and Junhui found out his mystery outings were not such a mystery, after all. He was just frequenting every club he could and tutoring students all around campus. It made Junhui feel miserable about his own attempts to navigate through academic life.

Once Wonwoo left, Junhui couldn’t concentrate. He found himself pacing around the room, and when the room got too small he migrated to the corridor. He paced all the way to Minghao’s dorm without even noticing, deciding then that he might as well knock on his door.

“I’m busy!” His familiar voice called out from inside the room.

“And I’m your best friend!”

After a few seconds, he opened the door.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, you’re always so sweet.”

Minghao glared at Junhui, making him laugh.

“Alright. I think I’m in love.”

“Wait. What?”

“I think I’m in love!”

It was like he was speaking Greek. Minghao’s expression remained the same until realization hit his eyes and his chin dropped.

“Jihoon,” he guessed.

“Exactly.”

“How did that even happen?”

“I don’t know!” Junhui sighed.

“I thought you’d never fall in love. I’d given up on being best man for your wedding. Now I can start planning my outfit again!” Minghao grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, but you need to help me seduce him first.”

Minghao rolled his eyes.

“The first step is never using the word _seduce_ again. That’s horrible. Don’t you have a single romantic bone in your body?”

“Oh, if only you knew. The other day I went to his apartment and as I sat on his bed I pictured just… cuddling with him,” Junhui sighed dreamily. “Waking up with him in my arms. Making sure he sleeps well because…”

“Okay. That’s enough. You might not be hopeless. We really do need a plan, though.”

Junhui nodded eagerly as Minghao picked up his sketchbook and a fancy mechanical pencil.

“So. Do you have any idea if he’s into you? Is he even into guys?”

“He is. And I don’t know. Sometimes I think he likes me, but it could be just wishful thinking.”

“Where’s your confidence?!” Minghao frowned.

“It’s hard to be cocky when you’ve just found out you’re head over heels for a friend.”

As Junhui spoke, Minghao took notes. It all felt very serious. Minghao’s scribbles grew in recklessness as he stopped caring about calligraphy and started to think about a plan.

“The first thing you need to do is ask him out.”

“We’re always out together!” Junhui protested. “And he’s a celebrity, too, which means he can’t risk going on a public date.”

“You’re out to watch me rehearse. That’s not romantic at all. Go to the movies or something,” Minghao said. “And, honestly, why should he care about being seen? It’s not the end of the world to be papped on a date with a cute boy.”

“It is when you’re also a boy.”

“You’re overcomplicating things. So, okay, plan B: imagine you’re hanging out at your dorm and you want to make a move,” Minghao pointed his mechanical pencil at Junhui. “First: make sure the door is locked. No one wants poor Wonwoo to see you at it _again_. He’s a nice boy, you know; he’s been tutoring me.”

“What?! You’re studying Arts! How does that even relate to his major?”

Minghao shrugged.

“It just does. Anyway, as I was saying, the door should be locked. And you should not ramble,” Minghao advised. “I know you do it when you’re nervous, but please contain yourself and just kiss him or something.”

“That would be so awkward!”

“Junhui, what was the last time you had a meaningful conversation before hooking up with someone?”

“He’s different!” Junhui insisted.

“Why are you even asking me for advice if you’re going to argue with me every time I say something?”

“Because you’re wonderful and I love you. I promise I’ll shut up.”

He tried to look angelical and, by the look in Minghao’s eyes, failed.

“I know you won’t, but I’ll keep on helping you, because I’m just that good. So, where were we?” Minghao twirled the mechanical pencil as he thought. “Oh, yes. Try to save your words for after the kiss. Maybe you won’t even need them; a good kiss speaks for itself.”

Junhui was about to start teasing him when Minghao lifted a threatening finger.

“And! Don’t go too fast.”

“You’re making me sound so bad.”

“That’s because you are,” Minghao pointed out.

“I’m… scared it’ll be too much. I’m scared I’ll kiss him, and then he’ll leave, and…” Junhui trailed off.

“Look. You don’t deserve someone who will run away from hard decisions. You deserve someone brave.”

“Are you actually being nice to me?!”

“I’ve been nice to you your whole life, you asshole. Now go ask that boy out.”

Junhui did as Minghao told him. Even though he had way too many doubts in his head, he felt lighter than before. He could do it. One step at a time.

_hey, are you free tomorrow?_

The answer was almost instantaneous.

_yeah, why?_

He took a deep breath and sent the message he had typed before he could delete it.

_you should come over_

Thankfully, Jihoon hadn’t found it strange. And he had no reason to: they did this all the time. Still, Junhui’s heart was beating way too fast, and he thought he needed to lay down and have a long night of beauty sleep.

The next day, his classes were impossible to pay attention to. Junhui wanted to see Jihoon. And, at the same time, he wanted to hide forever. The possibilities were just too much for him; speaking about his feelings would change everything, for better or for worse. He had never been scared of change, but the thought of Jihoon not wanting anything to do with him anymore was terrifying. All he could do was daydream about scenarios where it all went well.

When his last class was over, Junhui went right back to his dormitory. Wonwoo would be out for the day, thankfully, and he had a few hours to choose an outfit. He knew, though, that he would spend most of them desperately texting the Rocket group chat.

Junhui didn’t want to look as if he had wasted hours trying to find an outfit just to stay at the dorm, but he also wanted to look good, which he liked to believe he always did. It was hard, though, when he had barely slept, spending all night thinking about Jihoon instead. Junhui had hidden his longing for too long, and when it had been uncovered it took over his mind.

It was finally time. Jihoon had texted him saying he would be there soon, and Junhui had nothing to do but pace. He wasn’t prepared. Not at all. He had a bad habit of rushing into things, and he wished he had thought twice before texting Jihoon the night before. Until Jihoon told him he was waiting outside the building.

Junhui willed his body to work, took a few deep breaths and ran down the stairs to get to Jihoon faster. There was no way he would be able to wait for the elevator. When he stopped at the door, he was out of breath.

“Junhui,” Jihoon said, looking amused.

He was so beautiful Junhui found it hard to be annoyed at the chuckle that came out of his lips.

“Hi.”

There was a moment of silence and then they agreed to wait for the elevator instead of getting frozen outside. The atmosphere between them was strange, heavier than normal, as if Jihoon already knew everything Junhui wanted to tell him about and wanted nothing to do with it.

“You’re weird.”

Junhui frowned as he opened the door to his dormitory.

“Rude.”

“No, really, you’re freaking me out a little. You won’t even look at me!”

“Sorry. It’s just… you look very good. Sorry,” he blurted out, and Jihoon giggled.

“You’re ridiculous,” Jihoon said, sitting down in his bed as if it belonged to him.

Although he was smiling playfully, something had changed. He caught Junhui’s gaze and Junhui could feel his soul leave his body as they looked at each other. Jihoon was so lovely, and his lips were so rosy, and he could barely breathe as he thought of what he wanted to do to them.

Junhui was taken by surprise when Jihoon leaned forward, but he found himself missing the pressure of his lips against his own as soon as they were apart.

“Sorry,” Jihoon whispered.

“What for?” Junhui said softly.

“I shouldn’t have done this.”

“It was great.”

“It was _wrong_ ,” he said, and the pain in his voice made Junhui frown. “I can’t bring you into my mess.”

“Don’t you remember what I told you? I’m already part of your mess, Jihoon.”

Jihoon sighed and looked down at his hands. Of all possible outcomes for the day, that wasn’t one Junhui had gotten ready for. How could he have expected to get kissed by Jihoon? How could he have gotten prepared for that kind of rejection?

“It’s not fair to you.”

“Of course it is,” Junhui breathed out. “I want to be with you, Jihoon.”

“But you shouldn’t. I’m not the person you see on YouTube.”

“Good! That’s not who I fell for. I fell for the boy who’s sitting right beside me, arguing instead of just kissing me because he’s too stubborn to accept that he’s good enough.”

There was another sigh, and then Jihoon stood up. For a second, Junhui thought he had gone too far, and that he was leaving.

“Jihoon, I…”

“I’m scared,” Jihoon whispered.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“This is going to be a catastrophe.”

“We can handle it,” Junhui insisted.

“But you shouldn’t have to!”

“I want to,” he said, “and that’s enough. Come here.”

He didn’t expect Jihoon to, but he did.

“Do you want to be with me?”

Jihoon nodded.

“Okay. Good. Great,” Junhui grinned, feeling his heart soar. “Then we can figure things out, whatever they are.”

 

“You’re too optimistic,” Jihoon complained.

“I know you. You don’t give up easily. And I don’t want to let this go, so we’ll find a way.”

“Cheesy.”

“Well, you asked for it!” Junhui crossed his arms.

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Please, shut up,” Jihoon said, pulling him by the collar of his shirt and doing it himself.

Junhui thought he would never get used to Jihoon’s assertiveness. After a second, he decided to just give up being shocked and give in to the kiss, wrapping his arms around his waist. Jihoon tasted like mint and he kissed as if it was his last chance to do so, and Junhui couldn’t get enough of it. He bit into his lower lip and got a gasp and a chuckle as an answer.

“What was that?” Jihoon whispered against his lips. “Do it again.”

He was happy to comply, feeling Jihoon melt under his touch as his hands met the skin under his shirt. Something about him made Junhui feel young and vulnerable and intoxicated, and he never wanted it to stop.

“Okay, I need to breathe,” Jihoon said after a few minutes.

“Are you going to have another crisis?”

“Hopefully not.”

He made himself comfortable in Junhui’s arms and he found out it was, indeed, a very bad idea to be with Jihoon; it had been less than a day and he was already addicted to him. Junhui couldn’t think of letting him go and sleeping alone after that afternoon.

“I’ve wanted to do this forever,” he confessed.

“Me too,” Jihoon said. “I was scared, though.”

“What made you kiss me, then?”

“I don’t know. You were frowning and then you said that ridiculous thing about me looking good and…”

“It wasn’t ridiculous. You look amazing,” Junhui grinned.

“Stop that,” Jihoon gave him a peck on the lips. “I don’t know how to react to compliments.”

“I’ll be happy if you keep reacting like this.”

Jihoon laughed, and Junhui wanted to make that moment last forever.

“I don’t wanna go home,” Jihoon sighed.

“Then stay.”

“Can’t. Too much work to do.”

“Oh, yes, you have to finish all those scandalous songs about mysterious boys,” Junhui teased.

“Shut up. You know they’re all about you.”

Junhui beamed. The truth was that he didn’t know; he hadn’t let himself even think about it when Jihoon had told him about his new music. That day had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and though he had wanted to kiss him more than once as he spoke and worried and sighed, Junhui would never have done it in such a delicate situation. It had been safer not to dwell on those thoughts. The chances of Jihoon even feeling attracted to him were infinitesimal, anyway.

Still, he was. And he was right there, looking at Junhui with the most wonderful smile, and suddenly they were kissing, and it felt like they didn’t have a single worry in the world.

“I really like you,” Jihoon whispered against his lips.

They both knew that, whatever the feeling they shared was, it couldn’t be described with such a tiny verb. They didn’t _like_ each other. There were a few more suitable names for it: adoration, for example, was a great word for the feeling in Junhui’s chest whenever he looked at Jihoon. Still, love was heavy and scary and not something one should talk about in a first date.

“I love you,” he said, anyway, because he had never truly cared about what one should and shouldn’t do.

“Yes, that’s better,” Jihoon mused.

They both laughed, because they were young and in love and the world outside didn’t matter when everything they needed was in that cramped dormitory.

“I haven’t recorded a second of today,” Junhui frowned. “And the sky was so pretty…”

“Record us,” Jihoon smiled, and there was something mischievous about it. “Maybe not our faces, since I’m probably a mess, but… I think hands would be fine. If you’re okay with it.”

“Okay with it?! Of course I’m okay with it!”

“Alright.”

If Jihoon had known what he had unleashed, he would never have let Junhui record him. Junhui liked to keep memories of everything and everyone he loved, which ended up making him not only Rocket’s official performance recorder but also his friends’ own personal paparazzo. After their usual afternoons at the café, he would come back with pictures and videos of Jihoon laughing and trying to block the camera with one hand while he drank his coffee with the other. More than once, Wonwoo found him happily staring at his cellphone instead of doing his schoolwork.

As his exams came closer and Jihoon’s schedule became busier, they found it almost impossible to meet. They would text every time they found some free time, and often become too distracted by it, which made Wonwoo smack Junhui in the head with a book with alarming frequency. He hoped that way the books would transfer their knowledge to his mind.

It was Jihoon’s idea to bring Junhui with him to the studio and, at first, he was terrified. Too many bad things could happen if they were not careful enough. Still, Jihoon had insisted, and he couldn’t quite resist his pleading when it came with kisses and love bites.

“It’ll be nice, I promise,” Jihoon said as they rode to the studio. “You can finish that essay, and I can show you the place. It’s really fancy.”

His excitement was contagious, and soon enough Junhui was smiling. The building was tall and impressive, with a pompous logo on the door. They passed straight by it and stopped at one of the backdoors.

“Well, hello, Jihoon,” a boy said when he saw them enter the building.

Junhui was startled when he realized it was not a regular boy, but Lee Seokmin, the prince of idol reality TV. He was truly beautiful, with an angular face and a sharp smile.

“Hi,” Jihoon said, shyly, and Junhui had to resist taking his hand and reassuring him of how everything would be fine. “I brought a guest.”

“Not just a guest. Wen Jun! How lovely!”

“You’ve never been so excited to see _me_!”

Junhui stood by Jihoon’s side, not sure of what to do. He didn’t want to somehow get on Seokmin’s bad side.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he ended up saying. Seokmin offered him a shiny smile.

“So, Jihoon,” he went back to his professional tone, “you know what to do. Go meet the coach and I’ll see what’s going on in my floor. And you, Jun, can make yourself at home. No recording, though.”

He nodded obediently and followed Jihoon as he walked to the back of the hallway, into an open space with a few tables.

“I need to go see the vocal coach now. I’ll be back soon, okay?” Jihoon said, and Junhui lamented not being able to kiss him right then and there.

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Good luck with your essay!” He called out as he walked back into the corridor, earning some strange looks from the other occupants of the room.

Since they had first met, Jihoon had changed. He had become more confident in himself, laughing louder and taking up more space, and he even wanted to participate on Junhui’s channel as a guest again. It felt good to watch him grow.

It was hard to do any work while thinking about Jihoon. They had known each other for no more than a few months, but it felt like forever. Even though they had been together for only a short time, Junhui knew he loved him. True love, the one he read about in so many epic plays, the one that could start or end a war. He had never thought he would understand what it was like to know he would stop the world from spinning if only his lover asked him to, yet there he was. History made so much more sense after he had met Jihoon.

He busied himself with research for his essay, skimming through entire books just to find the perfect quote, and tried not to lose himself in thoughts. As much as he would love to keep on daydreaming about Jihoon, he also wanted to graduate. Eventually, he fell into a rhythm, which caused him to jump on his seat when someone touched his shoulder.

“It’s just me,” Jihoon said, softly. “You look pretty when you’re concentrated.”

Junhui felt his face flush, heat creeping up his cheeks.

“I’d rather concentrate on you, though.”

Jihoon’s face mirrored his then, and they smiled at each other like no one else was in the room. Junhui could get used to that.

“I need to go upstairs to start recording. Would you like to come with me?”

He got up immediately, closing his books and shoving them inside his bag.

“I’d love to!”

Jihoon giggled, something he knew was reserved only for him, and led the way into a squeaky clean staircase. The whole building looked pristine, and for a second he felt inappropriate there. When Jihoon took him by the arm and smiled up at his face, though, he knew he belonged.

“Alright. I’ve never been to a studio before,” he bit his lip.

“Well, the first one I went to was much less intimidating than this one, but Seokmin insisted on keeping a close eye on me. He says if I insist on doing this, he’d rather be watching,” Jihoon rolled his eyes, but it was easy to hear the affection in his voice. “He’ll be in the room the whole time, and he’s actually very nice when it comes to recording. Just stay with him and don’t touch any of his beloved machines and you’ll be fine.”

“Alright. I think I can handle it.”

They let go of each other and entered the room, which was dimly lit and even more imposing than the rest of the building. There were more people there than Junhui had expected.

“Jihoon! We’ll be ready in a second. Oh! Jun, you’re here too. Good. Please don’t make any noise or distract Jihoon.”

“He won’t _distract_ me,” Jihoon’s tone was indignant.

“Fine, fine.”

Seokmin didn’t argue, simply going back to the computer screens in front of him. Behind glass, there was a space with a microphone and various other musical instruments, and Jihoon waited beside the door to get inside.

“Good luck,” Junhui whispered to him.

He got a wide smile in return.

“I’m so nervous. And excited.”

They laughed and waited and Junhui listened intently to Jihoon, who was pointing to each complicated piece Seokmin fiddled with and explaining its use. It felt like an eternity before Seokmin said they were ready to go.

When Jihoon stood behind the microphone, the atmosphere shifted. Junhui was suddenly breathless; he was too beautiful. He couldn’t resist picking up his phone and finding the camera app.

“No filming,” Seokmin whispered to him in a stern voice.

“It’s just for myself. Please,” Junhui added.

“You look like you’re going to do it anyway.”

“I am,” he admitted.

Seokmin was not pleased, but they had no time to argue. Jihoon had begun to sing, accompanied by a keyboard, and his voice was clear and fascinating and he was looking at Junhui and time stopped. He could barely move as he watched, too scared to break the magic that surrounded them. He put his phone down after a few seconds of recording, too enchanted to care about it.

The session was over too soon. There was still a lot to be done, including other studio sessions, but Seokmin looked proud as he hugged Jihoon by the shoulder, and Junhui was radiant.

“Your voice is a masterpiece,” Seokmin said. “Keep up the good work.”

“Thanks,” Jihoon muttered, smiling to himself.

“Don’t forget to stay hydrated. And eat well. And sleep lots. I’ll see you in two days.”

“You sound just like my manager. Why are you guys like this?!”

“We worry.”

“Oh, okay, grandpa. You do know you’re younger than me, right?”

Seokmin sighed.

“The short ones are always feisty. Jun, you take good care of this one, okay? Don’t let him live off fast food.”

“Alright,” Junhui laughed at Jihoon’s grimace.

“Good. Now you can go home. These tracks will be delightful to work on,” Seokmin smiled, and it wasn’t hard to smile back. He was too charming.

They exchanged their goodbyes and Jihoon called a cab, making sure to put on a mask before going into the sidewalk. He was still a little wary of his newfound fame. It was hard to imagine what it was like to be so easily recognized in the streets.

As soon as they entered the car, Junhui linked their hands, smiling at the warmth of Jihoon’s skin.

“Today was great.”

Jihoon nodded, and Junhui knew he was smiling by the crinkles in his eyes.

“It was. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

The cab driver made the volume of the radio louder and Jihoon’s eyes widened. He nodded anyway.

“Of course I will.”

 


	7. Our smile flower blooms

The next day, the first thing Jihoon and Junhui did was tell their friends. The boys from Rocket had told Junhui there would be a rehearsal that afternoon, which was strange for Jihoon. They didn’t usually rehearse on Wednesdays.

It was funny how involved he had become with Junhui’s world. Jihoon knew all about the schedule for Rocket rehearsals and he always got on YouTube to watch Junhui’s videos before the notifications even showed up on his phone. It was so habitual he hardly noticed it anymore, and it was hard to remember a time when they had not been together.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan did remember, though. They both teased Jihoon about how he used to show no interest in romance before Junhui appeared, and the pressure to meet him grew bigger every day. They ended up scheduling a dinner on Saturday, when Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Junhui would be partly free from academic hell, and Jihoon was so anxious about it he couldn’t even think of it for too long. He longed for his best friends’ approval.

When the time came, Jihoon met Junhui outside the campus, where they stood for a moment, not knowing what to do. It was hard to resist kissing him in public.

“Are we always going to be this awkward?” Junhui asked, laughing at himself as he took Jihoon’s arm.

“I don’t want people to get between us,” Jihoon explained.

“I see. You want me all to yourself.”

He elbowed Junhui, who was indignant at first and then burst out laughing.

“I don’t want to live in secret forever,” Jihoon explained. “But it’d be nice to be just us for a while.”

Junhui nodded, a soft smile still on his face.

“I’ll be proud to hold your hand in public, you know,” he said.

Jihoon bit his own lip to stop himself from grinning, and then did it anyway. When had he become so averse to showing emotion? It had been so long ago he couldn’t remember a version of himself who laughed carelessly.

It was time to change that. He didn’t need to be afraid all the time. He had Junhui and Seungcheol and Jeonghan and a whole dance crew who supported him, and a million fans who listened to his music and connected with it somehow. He wasn’t alone, and he would never be again.

The boys were strangely quiet when Jihoon and Junhui arrived at the warehouse. They exchanged frowns, wondering if the rehearsal date had been changed without warning, and then jumped as they saw an explosion of color.

“Surprise!” Seungkwan shouted, getting laughed at by Hansol.

“What?!”

“Well, Jihoon, we thought you guys would never admit you were in love, so we have many reasons to celebrate,” Minghao said, his mouth full of cake.

“You traitor!” Junhui screamed at him. “You were talking behind my back all this time?!”

“Me and the whole team. Now take a seat and eat some cake before it’s too late.”

Junhui rolled his eyes dramatically and Jihoon chuckled. Those boys were absurd, and he loved them with his whole heart. He looked around the room where rehearsals were usually held and marveled at the amount of glitter that was everywhere, even on the floor. There was food, too, and even a few bottles he recognized as alcoholic beverages. Weren’t they supposed to be in the middle of a school week?

“Do you like it?” Soonyoung said, appearing out of nowhere and startling Jihoon. “I brought the glitter. Joshua, bless his soul, brought cake. Chan brought sweets too. The other boys brought whatever looks suspicious.”

Jihoon nodded, still a little overwhelmed by the improvised party. It was heartwarming to see all the boys joking and eating together, and he soon joined them.

“This is so _good_ ,” Junhui said into his piece of cake. “Shua, did you bake it?”

“Maybe.”

“He did,” Seungkwan revealed, earning himself a slap.

The cake tasted truly amazing. Jihoon helped himself to two pieces before the boys started to pass a bottle between them.

“Chan! Don’t drink that!” Joshua screamed, taking the bottle from his hands.

“Why?!”

“Because we don’t want to be the ones to call your parents after you pass out,” Hoshi glared at him.

“Hey! That was once!”

When the bottle reached his hands, Jihoon hesitated before taking a sip. Whatever it was, it burned his throat. His vocal coach wouldn’t be happy.

“Come on, drink more!” Minghao said mischievously.

“I can’t. I have to record again on Friday.”

“Well, I have a tutoring session with Wonwoo tonight, and it’s not like I’m not gonna get smashed.”

“Minghao, there’s not enough alcohol here for _anyone_ to get smashed,” Soonyoung pointed out.

“I can at least try.”

Soon enough, they were all tipsy and content. At some point, Jihoon had lied on Junhui’s lap, and he listened to the boys talk with his eyes closed as he felt careful hands undo the tangles in his hair. After a few generous swigs of vodka, Minghao went from temperamental to romantic, and it was delightful to see him like that. Chan ended up drunk, too, after the boys had had enough of trying to snatch bottles from his hands, and he wouldn’t stop giggling.

Junhui’s hands traveled from Jihoon’s hair to his shoulders, making him open his eyes lazily just to find Junhui’s staring right back at him.

“Hello,” he said.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Junhui blurted out.

“Then do it,” Jihoon smirked.

“Are you sure?”

Jihoon sat up and shot Junhui a determined glance, trying not to smile at his beauty. He was so lucky.

“I’m tipsy,” he whispered.

“Such a lightweight,” Junhui teased him, coming closer as he spoke. “I’m tipsy too.”

Jihoon was too infatuated with Junhui’s lips to answer. He cupped his jaw as he kissed him, messy at first but then just _right_ , chasing the taste of alcohol all over his mouth.

They only stopped when the hollering became too loud, and Jihoon had never been in a worse mood.

“Let me live!” He shouted.

“There are children in the room!” Soonyoung shouted back.

“Jun is basically my parent at this point,” Chan agreed between hiccups. “Please get a room.”

Junhui grimaced at them, making Minghao throw his head back laughing.

“That’s unfair! This party is supposed to be a celebration of my love for Jihoon!”

“We get it. You love each other. But we are all very single and very bitter,” Minghao pointed out.

“Are we, now?” Hansol asked, catching everyone’s attention.

Seungkwan blushed.

“Anyway,” Minghao rolled his eyes, “it’s getting late, and some of us have very busy lives, so maybe it’s time to go home.”

“Home’s boring,” Chan said.

“Everything’s boring when you’re rich, Chan.”

“I’m not rich!”

“Your parents gave you a whole empty warehouse to practice in. Just your shoes cost more than my whole outfit. And you’re not rich. Alright. Fine,” Minghao drawled out.

“You’re getting grumpy again,” Joshua said. “Do you want to share the last bottle?”

“Maybe.”

They proceeded to get up – and pretend no one saw Seungkwan fall three times while trying – and put their coats back on, getting ready for the harsh weather outside. Jihoon didn’t want to go, and it took Junhui a few minutes to convince him to get out of the room.

“I’ll have to go home and you won’t be there,” he complained. “What’s the point?”

“The point is that I don’t have a key, so we have to go with everyone. Come on. We can go to my dorm.”

After a lot of groaning, Jihoon stepped outside, just to find out it was even colder than it had been when they arrived. He and Junhui walked as fast as they could back to campus, which wasn’t too fast, considering they were both tipsy and enamored by the sight of each other.

“I should go home. I’ll interrupt your studies.”

“Jihoon, is this your first time drinking?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“Because no one can study after partying,” Jihoon laughed.

“It’s not like we got drunk. I still have total control of myself.”

“You kissed me at the warehouse,” Junhui pointed out.

“Yeah, because I wanted to.”

“I know. But you would have thought of a billion ways to complicate it if you weren’t drunk.”

“Oh,” Jihoon whispered.

“It’s fine, though. The boys are good at keeping secrets, and they’re happy for us.”

“I don’t think I’ll regret it. It was nice. And they knew we were dating, anyway.”

Junhui nodded and opened the door to his room, going straight to his bedside table to grab a water bottle.

“Drink. I don’t want you to have a headache.”

“Are you sure I’m not going to be a burden?”

“You’re never a burden, Jihoon. And you’ll never be.”

Jihoon took the water bottle and plopped down into the bed with a sigh.

“Is my manager going to scold me?”

“I don’t think so.”

After a few sips, he laid down and pulled Junhui into the bed, complaining when he didn’t budge.

“I’m thinking of getting us some food,” Junhui explained. “It’ll be good for you.”

Jihoon felt his own stomach rumble with the idea of eating.

“Alright. Just let me get my wallet.”

“No.”

“No?” Jihoon frowned.

“Let me take care of you.”

“It’s not fair, though. I can pay.”

Junhui rolled his eyes and walked to the door.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Take care.”

“You too.”

Alone in Junhui’s bedroom, all Jihoon could do was stay in bed and wait. The scent in the pillowcase and the warmth of the blanket underneath him made his heart ache with longing for Junhui, even though it had only been a few minutes since he had been gone. It was absurd how fast he had fallen for that boy.

“Oh. Hey,” a voice said from the door. It was Wonwoo. “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d be here. I’m just getting the stuff for my next tutoring session.”

“I really love your roommate,” Jihoon announced.

“Good. Alright, I think I have everything. See you later!”

“See you.”

He went back to analyzing the plaid pattern of the sheets, hardly noticing the time that passed before Junhui appeared with two delicious smelling containers.

“I brought us dinner!”

“Ugh. It smells so _good_ ,” he groaned. “Thank you.”

“No problem. It’s from my favorite place,” Junhui grinned as he sat by Jihoon’s side.

They ate in silence, too distracted by the food to care about the rest of the world.

“Don’t eat too fast,” Junhui said. “You’ll get sick.”

Jihoon let out a small huff, not pleased with Junhui’s scolding, but slowed down anyway. It was good to let himself be cared for, and he could feel some of the dizziness caused by the alcohol leave his body. Strangely enough, he couldn’t be bothered to overthink his actions during the day. He wondered what it was like to be this careless all the time.

When he left, it was already late at night and Wonwoo had joined them in a weird conversation that somehow involved videogames, college majors and politics at the same time. They were all getting tired, and it would only get colder outside, so Jihoon decided to take a cab home. There, he slept like he hadn’t done in years.

The next day, he woke up with a bitter taste on his mouth and an unbearable thirst. His mood, however, was good, even though it was morning and his neighbors in the upper floor were already doing whatever they did there. He decided not to waste it and ate breakfast hurriedly before getting dressed and putting some light makeup on.

It was the perfect time to come out. Jihoon was about to release a new EP, which included songs that were very obviously about men, and he was _happy_. All those years, he had longed to be happy again, and hated himself when the feeling came but didn’t last longer than an hour. He had been healing, though. All along, he had been growing as a person, and at that point he couldn’t help but feel proud.

He set up the camera and started to talk with no script. If he rambled too much, he could always edit it later; at that moment, he just wanted to let it out. So he did. Jihoon told the camera about his life and his fears, not worried if he would stutter or get emotional, and only stopped when he felt free. It was such a small thing, admitting it all to a camera, all alone in his room, but it felt like the biggest step. He felt brave.

In the afternoon, Jeonghan texted him to know when he and Junhui would be free. He and Seungcheol wanted to meet and scrutinize him, as they did with anyone who entered Jihoon’s life, even his manager. Jihoon texted Junhui, who said he would be free on the weekend, and Jeonghan decided they should have dinner on Saturday.

Friday was filled with recording. Seokmin and a few other producers, including Mingyu Kim, a fellow indie artist who had worked with the boys from Rocket before, ambushed him with questions about the identity of the EP, which Jihoon was happy to talk about. Music had always come naturally to him, and it was good to be in his element. There was nothing about his career he enjoyed more than creating. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to engage with fans or record videos; those things just felt harder. Inside the studio, he didn’t need to be afraid to speak his mind, but as soon as his new music was released he knew he would be dealing with unwanted attention and inconvenient questions.

“Have you ever tried your hand at producing?” Seokmin asked him out of nowhere.

“I’ve always wanted to,” Jihoon admitted.

“I feel like you’d be good at it. I could teach you some things if you wanted me to,” he suggested nonchalantly.

“Really?!”

“I agree with Seokmin. I can help too,” Mingyu said. “I’ve been letting Hansol mess around with my mixing desk and he’s quite the fast learner. We could all hang out sometime.”

Jihoon took a few moments to just process the information. He had never expected to be a respected artist without coming from a big entertainment company, and yet there he was. He had managed to become friends with producers and musicians, and his music was heard everywhere. Five years ago, Jihoon would never have believed any of that could happen to someone like him. He had underestimated his own determination.

“I would love that,” he grinned.

“That’s great! I’ll call you as soon as I’m free,” Seokmin said.

Jihoon was still smiling when he left the building. His stomach was cold with anticipation; he had so many things to do and learn and, for once, the future seemed bright. He made dinner for himself, even though his cooking skills were not the best, and spent the night chatting with his friends on the phone. His number had been added to the Rocket group chat, where the boys were discussing the aftermath of the party, and he couldn’t stop laughing at Seungkwan’s tragic stories about missed tests and a lost shoe. Jihoon ended up falling asleep with the cellphone in his hands, only waking up when it slipped and fell. His night was filled with strange but happy dreams.

He woke up too early in the morning and was left with nothing to do until Junhui, Jeonghan and Seungcheol arrived. His afternoon involved a lot of pacing around and fluffing pillows. When Jeonghan and Seungcheol finally arrived, he practically jumped on their arms.

“I’m so bored!” He cried out.

“So were we. That’s why we’re early,” Seungcheol said. “Now, where’s your boyfriend?”

“That’s a good question. I’ll text him.”

“Oh, I’m so excited to meet him again!” Jeonghan exclaimed.

“Try not to interrogate the boy, Hannie,” Seungcheol teased him. “You can be quite scary.”

“Good to know. I’ll use those powers for evil.”

“No evildoing around Junhui, please,” Jihoon pleaded as he typed out a message. “He’s nice.”

“He’s _hot_ ,” Jeonghan pointed out. “And I’m a big fan. His skincare routine is seriously magical. I promise I will be nice to him.”

“You’re not even nice to me!” Seongcheol exclaimed.

Before they could continue to bicker, Junhui texted Jihoon saying he had arrived. It turned out he had been on the way to the apartment when Jihoon sent the first message.

“Okay. Be quiet for a second. Don’t scare him,” Jihoon asked as he got up.

He answered the intercom to allow Junhui to come to his floor and waited at the door, pretending not to see Jeonghan and Seungcheol right behind him. When Junhui showed up, he looked as frightened as Jihoon felt.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Junhui.”

“We know,” Seungcheol laughed. “I’m Seungcheol.”

“I’m Jeonghan. We’ve met before.”

“Oh! I remember you!”

“Do come in,” Jihoon said in a small voice, leading the way back to the couch.

It was all way more awkward than he thought it would be. Jeonghan’s eyes were glimmering mischievously,Junhui was panicked, and so was he. Seungcheol was the most normal acting person in the room.

“You look good,” Junhui whispered, making him smile a little.

“So do you.”

“So, Junhui,” Seungcheol said brightly. “How’s YouTube going?”

“It’s all great. Since I did a video with Jihoon, though, my subscribers keep asking me to bring him back. I think they like him better.”

“No. They like to see me suffer while wearing a face mask.”

Jeonghan cackled at that.

“Who doesn’t?”

Jihoon raised his hand, making Jeonghan laugh harder. Soon enough, the conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm. Junhui was charming and polite, and Jihoon needed a lot of self-restraint not to kiss him in front of his friends. He was so easy to love; his voice was sweet like honey as he spoke of his origins and his studies, and he listened intently as Jeonghan and Seungcheol spoke about their own experiences with college, and Jihoon could finally relax. By the end of the night, they would end up as best friends.

They ordered dinner and a bottle of wine from a fancy place just for the sake of being adults and celebrating life, and Seungcheol, who was a Film student, was enchanted to know about Junhui’s one second per day project. Warmth and excitement surrounded them as they talked about the future of their careers and exchanged ideas. Jihoon could see the approval in Jeonghan’s smile and Seungcheol’s eyes, and he didn’t stop smiling the whole night.

Time passed too quickly as they talked, and it was past midnight when Seungcheol looked at his watch and said he and Jeonghan would be late for the last bus if they stayed any longer.

“Oh, no. Stay,” Jihoon asked.

“We have a ton of university stuff to do,” Seungcheol lamented. “And I have a whole video to record.”

“Stop being so practical. You’re no fun,” Jeonghan complained.

“You still love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“We do have to go, though, Hannie,” he said while getting up.

“It’s cold outside,” Jeonghan whined.

“You can have my coat.”

“Alright,” he grinned. “Bye, guys. We’ll see you soon.”

“It was great to meet you, Junhui! Don’t forget to hit me up!”

Jihoon walked them to the door, where they put their shoes back on and gave him a long group hug.

“I’m proud of you,” Jeonghan said.

“Thanks,” he smiled.

He and Junhui sat back on the couch and heard them bicker and laugh as they reached the elevator.

“Are they dating?”

“Who even knows at this point?” Jihoon sighed.

Junhui laughed.

“It’s really getting late. I should go home, too.”

“Or you could stay,” Jihoon offered.

“That’s very tempting.”

“I don’t think I have any pajamas that would fit you, though.”

Junhui waggled his eyebrows, making Jihoon feel a blush creep up his cheeks.

“Stop!”

“Alright, I will,” he smirked.

“Come with me. I’ll try to find you something.”

They spent a long time in Jihoon’s bedroom, trying to figure out what could fit Junhui. Jihoon’s clothes were tailored for short people and always ended up being too tight or short for Junhui. They ended up settling for a pair of plaid pants that made Junhui snicker every time he looked at his exposed ankles and a sweater that was oversized for Jihoon and therefore fit just right on him. It was ridiculous how Junhui could look good in anything.

Jihoon went to the bathroom to change into his nightclothes and brush his teeth and came back to a very bundled up Junhui sleeping on his favorite side of the bed. He didn’t have the nerve to tell him to move; Junhui looked way too comfortable.

“Hi.”

“Your bed is so nice. I never wanna go back to the dorms again,” Junhui mumbled against the pillow.

Jihoon laid down beside him, smiling at the closeness of his face and the fresh smell of mint in his breath.

“I’m sleepy,” he said.

“What an old man,” Junhui chuckled. “Come here. I’m cold.”

Junhui pulled him by the waist, cold hands sneaking up his shirt and making him shiver. They held each other for a moment, a shy smile taking over Jihoon’s lips, and kissed lazily, just because they could. It felt nice to know they were in their own little world and nothing could interrupt them. No roommates or alarm clocks or anxieties would separate them that night, and Jihoon loved it.

“You’re beautiful,” Junhui sighed, placing a kiss on his jaw.

Jihoon let out a little noise which he immediately felt ashamed of. Junhui laughed at his wide eyes, and he had to kiss him to make him shut up. They fell asleep like that, all tangled up on each other, bodies as close as possible. It was the most comfortable Jihoon had ever been.

That night, he didn’t dream. He woke up to the faint sound of humming coming from the kitchen and immediately missed the warmth of Junhui’s body, deciding to get up and see what he was up to.

“Junhui?”

“Here!”

He found Junhui in the kitchen, slicing something while keeping his eyes on a pan that sat on the cooktop.

“Good morning.”

“You were singing,” Jihoon smiled.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I’m glad you did. I’ve been curious to listen to you singing forever. You sound nice,” he said.

“So do you,” Junhui laughed. “Especially right now. You’re all hoarse from sleeping.”

Jihoon cleared his throat, feeling embarrassed.

“It takes me very long to actually wake up and be functional.”

“Well, you’re up now,” Junhui pointed out.

“That’s your effect.”

They ate breakfast together and lamented that Junhui had to go before lunch. Having him in the apartment made it feel more like a home, and Jihoon wished it would always be like that. He missed living with other people and waking up to their noise and not feeling lonely all the time.

Although seeing Junhui leave made him feel sad, it also made him feel hopeful. Maybe one day he wouldn’t have to leave. Jihoon smiled at all the possibilities as he answered e-mails from his management team to confirm the releasing date of his second EP.

After everything was recorded, time seemed to go by faster. Seokmin and Mingyu were constantly showing him ideas and asking him for opinions, and the songs would be finished soon. Editing the coming out video was hard, but it made Jihoon proud of himself. Every day, he came closer to living his truth.

Whenever they had time, he and Junhui went to their coffee shop and stopped by the warehouse to say hello to the boys from Rocket, who were also about to release a big project. The cover art for Jihoon’s EP looked stunning, and his team was on the process of deciding what to do for the title track’s music video. Of course, Seungcheol had been invited, and it was him who had the idea to call Junhui and ask him about the footage of Jihoon he had.

In the next meeting, Junhui showed up to let the team see what he had recorded. It turned out to be of very good quality, something Seungcheol complimented him on, and fit perfectly with the lyrics of the song. At first, Jihoon was nervous about it; the videos didn’t always show his best angles and he could see the love in his eyes every time he looked at the camera. It was a side of him he had never shown to the public. It was truthful, though, and all Jihoon wanted was to be seen for his true self.

When he got his copy of the EP, he instantly told all his friends. Chan invited him to celebrate at the warehouse, without booze this time, and all the boys from Rocket agreed. They were all excited to see the final product of Jihoon’s work. Junhui invited Wonwoo and Jihoon invited Seungcheol and Jeonghan, and he couldn’t forget Seokmin and Mingyu. Surprisingly enough, they all accepted their invitations.

It had been a wonderful day, and the celebrations extended themselves through the night. Though they all came from such different backgrounds, the 13 boys got along as if they had known one another for their entire lives. Jihoon was overcome with pride and love for all his friends. At the beginning of that same year, he had felt like he could only trust two people; he had no idea what would be expecting him later on. He never knew a small meet and greet event would have such a big effect in his life.

Finally, his EP and the title track’s music video were released. He grinned at the notification on his phone, opening a window in his laptop and finding the folder where he kept his edited videos. After clicking the upload button, he sat back and watched himself speak to the camera.

“Hello! Today I want to talk to you about something quite serious,” the Jihoon in the screen said, pausing to catch his breath. “I want to tell you all the truth about myself.”

It felt like the start of a new age.


End file.
